


Daughter of Man, Sister of Dragon

by The_Myth_Rider



Category: Disney Princesses, Enchanted Forest Chronicles - Patricia Wrede, Frozen (2013), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tarzan (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Frozen (2013) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Centaurs, Crossover, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Female Protagonist, Femslash, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Tarzan, M/M, Magic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Supernatural Elements, it is law, yes there are scenes where you are obligated to play the songs from Tarzan in your head
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Myth_Rider/pseuds/The_Myth_Rider
Summary: Birger was a young frost dragon when lost his sister, hardly even ten winters old, to the Nightmare that haunted their herd. Not long after that tragedy, he found and rescued an orphaned human baby who'd lost her parents to the same monster. He decides raise her as a sister, and having known no other way to live, Elsa grew up thinking herself a dragon as well. That is, until an expedition of familiar strangers come to the homeland, with the aim of researching the mythical and magical beasts in the untamed Russian wilderness......one of them being a cute young woman with hair like fire who catches the eye of the "dragon"...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first, and so far only, Elsanna story, so do bear with me. It's heavily inspired by Tarzan, but is set in a modern AU that's a crossover of several different stories. There may be characters of other fandoms showing up later, depending on when/if they choose to involve themselves. =P But the ones listed as characters are not only confirmed, but will have their own parts to play in the story.  
> As will the loveable ass Birger, of course, but he's being gracious enough not to hog the spotlight this time.
> 
> I mostly wanted to make this story, because I thought the Tarzan plot could well suit an Elsanna story; and thanks to Birger and the Frost Dragons, finding a replacement for the gorillas and the jungles of Africa was quite easy. Besides, as much credit as we give Jennifer Lee for Frozen, we shan't forget Chris Buck directed it alongside her, and he directed Tarzan. So...in a way...this crossover was meant to be, hehehehe.
> 
> For this first chapter, do your best to imagine Two Worlds playing in the background; as, yes, this matches the opening scene of Tarzan beat-for-beat. ;3

_The wind blew furiously as the blizzard enthralled the mountainous land around them. The frost dragons trudged slowly but stubbornly through their home, completely unfazed by the whiteout around them. To their keen, icy blue eyes, the snow was no more concealing the land than the moonlight that scarcely illuminated it. The great white beasts came into their valley peacefully, the wind and raging snow broken by a circular wall of strong, sturdy peaks. Here they would be safe, and undisturbed._

* * *

_Meanwhile, off the coast but a few miles away, a human ship floated in a blaze as it drifted in the black water, a flaring beacon through the sheer white of the storm. Some of its occupants fought desperately to put out the fire, many not bothering to don their coats, the fire devouring their ship hot enough to nullify the snowstorm. They distributed fire extinguishers, made bucket trails filled with ice-cold water. As valiant as their efforts were, it was clearly a futile effort._

_Which was why a single married couple attempted, instead, to flee the ship._

* * *

 

_As the dragons nestled in their valley, making their nests and settling back into their home, a small contingent of pups banded together. They were excited to be back home, and now, they planned to play. One pair out of the fluffy dozen stayed close together as the band went off to the escapade: a ten-winter old male, and his young, scarcely winter-old sister. The Brother kept close watch on his sister as the group scurried onward, happy and playful as could be._

_Unbeknownst to them, or to their elders, a shadowy beast had followed the herd to their sanctuary…and now stalked the exposed puppies._

* * *

 

_The Man struggled to keep the lifeboat still as his wife cradled their child in her arms. His auburn hair blew wildly in his face, the frost encrusted upon it all but getting into his eyes. He blinked them away, shaking his head furiously as he gave a mighty heave and, finally, the boat settled. The Woman let out a relieved sigh before she boarded their last hope, tightly securing their daughter in the warmth of her coat, against her chest. With her child safe in her coat, the Woman then made to assist her husband prepare the boat, and to ensure what few supplies they’d scavenged were not lost to the raging elements around them._

_The Child was blissfully unaware, and seemingly unconcerned with the freeze around her…_

* * *

 

_The pups were daringly close to the boarders of their homeland, finding entertainment in the forest on the fringe. They gallivanted through the hardy trees—plants as much if not more so stubborn than the frost dragons who neighbored them. The young band scurried to and fro, running over each other, wrestling and chasing, carefree and oblivious to their surroundings. The Brother did not partake in what he viewed as frivolities, even being young as them. He instead watched over his sister, whom was drawn by the group mentality, playing and running along with them._

_The Brother’s ears and nostrils twitched as they tried to warn him, but his eyes remained upon the Sister instead._

* * *

 

_Finally, the family made it ashore, even as the flaming wreckage of the ship fell to the wrath it had waged its war with. While the Man and the Woman mourned the fallen, it was past. They now had a dangerous, uncertain future before them. They were alone, isolated, and in a frozen world they did not belong in. But for their child, they would try. Thus did they trek deep into this cold paradise, searching for a place where they could make shelter. The Daughter giggled, and as the Woman pulled down the zipper of her coat ever so slightly, her child waved her stubby arms. The Man followed the gesture, and spotted a cave opening in the nearby mountain wall. He smiled, auburn moustache crinkling with snow, before he gently stroked his daughter’s brown-haired head._

_There they took their supplies, there they fortified the cavity in the land’s bones and made their shelter. There, they made themselves safe, and warm…_

* * *

 

_They had gone too far, and too late did the Brother realize._

_A snapping branch, and he was on the guard. He ran to catch up with the others, where the group had played off to, where his sister had followed. The sounds of yelps, of dragon-pup screams told him it was far too late. He came to a skidding stop at the edge of the trees, gazing in horror before him. Some beast…a_ monster _…had already slain most of the pups by now. It was so big, so black…its corded muscles rippling as its nightmarishly long claws tore through the young dragon flesh, and its yellowed teeth sank into them. The Brother watched as it turned onto his sister, and he howled in fear. Just as he was to leap forward, a shadow covered him. A loud, terrible roar sounded behind him—it was his sire, the mighty Father. The vicious, cowardly beast snarled before snatching the Sister in its teeth, and running off._

_The Brother cried out, and made to follow…but the Father stopped him. He met his sire’s eyes, and saw in them only sorrow, only resignation._

_The Brother fell against the Father’s arm, and he cried…_

* * *

 

 _Weeks passed, and the infamous night remained sharp and painful in the Brother’s memory. He sat alone, grieving still, even as his herd moved on, at peace and content in their frosted valley. Of course they could forget so easily, it was simple for them. They were not to blame for the massacre that occurred…they didn’t have to live with the knowledge that they were the sole survivor, that if they’d just_ done something _, then maybe…maybe the Sister would still be alive… The Brother’s ears twitched once again, alerting him to a far-off cry. He looked up and away, listening closely. The cry came again—it was the cry of a pup, a small, helpless pup. His ears twitched evermore as the cry continued to call out to him, and the Brother’s gaze grew more and more determined._

_He would follow his ears this time._


	2. The Rescue From The Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't notice something was wrong with some of the words, and I don't even remember what happened. =P FIXED IT.

Birger ran faster than he had yet to before, strong furry legs pumping hard. The closer he got to the cries, the more his ears twitched—and soon, his nostrils twitched as well as a strange new smell assaulted them. It was not the smell of the Nightmare, no…but of something else. Finally, Birger stood before the opening of a cave, or he was certain that it was one. Its opening was altered, covered up and almost guarded. Odd contraptions were strewn around it, and… something smelled wrong. But the cries echoed unhindered, and so he entered the cave.

Birger crept inward slowly, cautiously, as he listened and as he smelled.

Peculiar objects were scattered throughout the rather spacious cave—he could hardly make out the ceiling of it, as high as it was—in a chaotic mess almost as if… as if something happened here. Scanning the floor, Birger became aware of claw marks, and of red streaks; many of the strange objects were toppled over, or broken, or scratched. He frowned, growing anxious… something was not right here. A familiar, metallic smell hit the young dragon's nose as he looked for the source. He saw then, lying behind some sort of wooden device, a pair of bodies. Birger approached cautiously, yet curiously, eyes narrowed as he inspected them. They were so still… and… and surrounded by a majority of the red and the claw marks.

It was then Birger realized he was smelling blood.

His eyes widened in fear as he swiftly backed away from the bodies, but froze. A cracking sound ripped his gaze to the ground, where his paw had broken something. He lifted it, glad the thick pads of his paws protected him from the strange, sharp thing below. He leaned down and peered at it; it was some kind of image, and had the strangest trio of creatures on it. One of them looking so small compared to the other two, almost as if it were a pup of whatever beast they were.

Birger tilted his head, and just then, a new cry sounded, and his gaze was brought to the source.

At the end of the cave, nestled in a corner, was an odd sort of nest. He slowly walked up to it, sniffing and listening all the while. Within the nest, some sort of creature was flailing about, covered by a thick, furry-but-not-furry covering. The cries were coming from it, temporarily reduced to whimpers as the creature could not free itself. Birger tilted his head, then reached a paw into the nest, the prehensile appendage managing to grip the covering and pull it away. The small creature that was revealed blinked and rubbed its eyes with stubby, fur-less appendages as the sunlight streaming into the cave suddenly assaulted it.

The baby looked up at the dragon, and Birger looked down at the creature.

In unison, their heads tilted as they let out confused whimpers.

Birger recovered first, tilting his head the other way as he slowly lowered it to the smallish creature-pup. He sniffed it curiously, fluffy nose brushing against its fur-less body. The pup was clearly female, if its scent was anything to go by. As he continued to smell, Birger was amazed. It was so small! His nose was as big as its chest! She smelled peculiar as well, and her bare torso was smooth. The pup giggled and squirmed in place, flailing her short limbs and grasping at the young frost dragon's fur. The pup wasn't really paying attention to where said limbs went, however, as her fists ended up plunging into Birger's nostrils.

His eyes bulged as he reared his head back, shaking it furiously as he snorted before rubbing his nose with a paw. When Birger looked back down at the creature-pup, he narrowed his eyes and quirked his mouth in annoyance. The little thing must've been aware of what it'd done, for it sobered quickly, fisting one hand in the other as it ducked its head and whimpered apologetically. It got over that quickly, however, as it smiled widely and held out its arms, squealing and giggling excitedly, as if it wanted the dragon to pick it up.

Birger raised an eyebrow and looked around uncertainly, uneased at being put on the spot as such. He sighed, however, as he jumped up, balancing on his hind legs and resting one forepaw on the rim of the nest. He then carefully reached in with both forepaws, now leaning his chest against the cradle as he deftly lifted the small creature with his semi-prehensile paws. Because of how terribly lacking she was in warming fur, he kept the soft material of her nest around it to keep it warm. The young dragon then sat back, holding the creature-pup in his paws and staring at it wide-eyed and unsure. She just kept smiling and reaching out to him, leaving Birger immensely off-put. With naught else to do, he rested against his tail, sitting with it and his legs keeping him steady and upright. He then pulled the small thing closer to his white and soft chest, where a small scruff of teal mane had begun to grow, and held her there.

The small creature yawned and smacked her lips as she snuggled against the fluffy chest of Birger. The fur was soft and cool, and immensely comforting for the nigh-on year-old infant. She was gradually succumbing to sleep in the calm of the young beast's forelegs.

Said beast was dumbfounded by the situation, still staring wide-eyed at the creature-pup. He got an odd feeling deep in his chest as he watched the little one's eyes slowly close. It was tight and strange…but warm, and the longer Birger gazed at the pup, the warmer it got, until he began to feel it in every toe on every paw. Finally, it got to the point the young frost dragon found himself smiling, and he all but chuckled. Carefully, because his form was barely supporting him holding the creature as he was, Birger gently lifted it up and nuzzling it softly with his nose.

As he did so…his ears twitched in warning, and his nostrils quivered in affirmation. His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at the cavern's roof.

Two bright yellow points of light shone in the darkness of the cave ceiling, and a terrible growling Birger had only heard once came to his attention. The young dragon immediately tensed his hind legs and leaped away, and just in time; for just as he hit the ground and rolled away, creature-pup still secure in his forelegs, the Nightmare landed with a powerful crush where Birger had just been moments before. The frost dragon gazed in terror as he saw the jagged, broken earth around the monster.

The Nightmare was large, much larger than Birger was. Its pitch black, oily fur was long and coarse, covering the entirety of its thick, muscular frame. It rolled its shoulders as it stood to its full height—its strong, reverse-jointed legs quaked with the power in their muscles. Its flat chest and brawny shoulders were in vague resemblance to the small creature the frost dragon held, but much bigger and mightier—and they were all shaking with its deep, growling breaths. It flexed the claws on its half-paw-half-hands, which were freakishly long, nearly as long as its forearms, and stained red. The Nightmare slowly turned its head to them; thick, matted mane upon its head and around its neck rustling as it did so. Its long snout seemed to be set in a permanent snarl, yellowed teeth bared and bloody, waiting for meat.

Those sharp, hateful yellow eyes seemed to rip the frost dragon's very soul apart.

Birger had no delusions of going up against the monstrosity before him. He was but a youth, and although he already thought himself strong, the Nightmare was a force beyond his matching. Instead, he swiftly placed the now awake, and now fearfully sniveling creature-pup on his back, where his teal mane had just begun to pool between his shoulder blades. As soon as he felt it was safely in place, swaddled still in the thick coat it'd previously laid on, Birger got to his feet and ran out of the cave as quickly as he dared with the precious cargo. A wrathful howl from behind only spurred him on quicker.

Birger ran, his legs pumping and sending him soaring across the snowy land. Luckily for him, the pup seemed to be gripping his fur tightly, though he knew not if it was aware of the situation. It was so young, so very, very young… as young as his murdered sister was… For her memory, and for the sake of the small pup itself, Birger swore it would not let the Nightmare kill it too. But he did not yet have the strength to protect it from the monster in battle, so instead he would have to run—just run, just fly, and not stop till he got back to the valley. If he got back to the safety of the homeland, perhaps he could get help—find a mighty dragon, an elder, maybe his sire if he could. Someone with the strength Birger had yet to grow into…

Another howl, all but dripping with hate, sounded in the young dragon's wake and caused him to cringe in fear. They weren't going to make it…

A small, fearful cry caught the young dragon's ear, and he skid to a stop in the center of a clearing. He swung his head back around to check on the pup between his shoulder blades. She was still wrapped in the covering from her nest, and still settled on his back. But she was frightened—Birger could see it on her face, and in her eyes. He brushed his nose softly against her face, and though she whimpered, the pup seemed at least somewhat reassured by the nuzzle. Birger glanced up at the tree-line, to the trail he'd left; it was obvious, easily followed, and they would soon be caught.

The frost dragon's brows furrowed in resolve, fuzzy lips twitching into a snarl as a soft growl began to rise in his chest. He'd already lost his sister, and this pup her parents. Birger was  _not_  going to let the Nightmare take anyone else.

Not today.

He gently gripped the covering with his teeth, delicately lifting the pup from his back before holding her in a paw. Hobbling on three legs, Birger approached a clear patch of dirt near a tree, and laid her there. With the blanket she'd come in covering the ground, he then reached up and broke off some branches, crowding them around her, hoping the sharp pine smell would disguise the pup's scent. He piled them together until the branches formed a veritable hut. Satisfied that the makeshift cover he'd fashioned would suffice and hide the small creature, Birger turned to make his stand against the Nightmare.

But just as he began to turn away, he heard the pup whimper again.

Birger glanced back to see the pup had managed to pull herself to the edge of her blanket and stare out at him. Her eyes, bright and teal, met his and the young dragon noticed the innocent fear in them. He smiled gently and craned his neck, brushing her again with his nose. He thrummed gently, the deep humming noise vibrating through his nose and to her. It was as much of a verbal reassurance as he dared to give her at the moment. With the pup settled for the moment, Birger hardened his resolve once more and fully turned away.

The young frost dragon trotted a short ways away from the pup before he stopped and took in as deep a breath as he could. But just as he was about to howl for help, the din of heavy footfalls running his direction caught in his ears. In a beastly growl, the Nightmare broke through the trees… _literally_ , slamming past them and breaking apart their branches on the way. The innocent foliage fell to the snow, the soft thud of their landing in sharp contrast loud cracking of their being assaulted. Birger swung his head around, eyes wide with fear—there's no way he could call for help now, the beast would smite him before he could manage to regain a breath deep enough to howl.

The Nightmare zeroed in on the young beast before it snarled, its hot breath fogging in the frigid air. It refused to allow its prey to be stolen from it… and if it got to kill a frost dragon in the process, then all the better for it. The monstrosity sauntered to its left, slowly circling Birger as it continued to watch him. Its grey lips never once fell over its teeth, perpetually snarled as they were. Birger noticed its ears twitch as it listened, and the irregularity of its breathing as it smelled.

It was searching for the pup…

Birger hissed and growled, pawing the snowy ground provocatively in order to make the Nightmare focus on him. It worked, and the young dragon had to resist a shudder as the piercing eyes fixated on him. There was so much hunger, so much hate in those yellowed orbs; it was frightening. Petrifying even—but Birger refused to give in, snapping his teeth and growling again. He then slowly began to walk, paralleling the Nightmare as they circled one another. Birger knew he didn't have to win, per se—all he needed to do was to hold the monster off, to distract it until help came. They weren't too far from the valley, though nor would reinforcements arrive in a matter of moments.

No… there would be plenty of time to fail if Birger lost focus…

So the young frost dragon let his mind clear, sharp blue eyes focusing on the monster before him till it was nearly the only thing he registered. While he kept in mind important points—their surroundings, the Nightmare's body language, and the nearby presence of the pup—Birger concentrated solely on his opponent. Said opponent continued their tenuous circling for some time, giving an occasional extra growl for good measure. Birger all but lost focus as a part of him wondered if he would be lucky enough to just circle with the Nightmare till someone came.

That thought nearly cost him everything.

In a flash, the Nightmare crouched and lunged at him, a soft hiss from its maw and the crunching of snow beneath its feet the only found as it flew at him. Birger just had time to register its long claws, stretched out to both sides of the monster, and react. He snarled, then lunged right back at him, surprise flickering in the Nightmare's eyes as the young frost dragon collided with its dense chest. Shock and fear lanced through Birger as he felt the sheer muscle stretching across the beast's torso, but he ignored it and instead pushed it back onto the ground. Not having expected the dragon to retaliate, the Nightmare hadn't planned to assert all of its weight towards him, and thusly fell back when Birger did so.

The pair plowed through the snow, dragon atop the monster's chest, and nearly slid to the opposite end of the tree-line. Just before the Nightmare could recover, Birger swiped a claw at its face and pushed off of it, bounding away before it could counter. The monster howled in pain and anger, thrashing about on the snow before finally scrambling to its feet. It glared at him, blood dripping from its face where the young frost dragon has scored it; four red, jagged lines slicing their way down one side, stretching across its mouth and through one eye.

Birger scowled back at it. Good. One less hateful eye he had to suffer to meet the gaze of.

The Nightmare disturbed its weight evenly on its feet, then brought its arms together before it. In a dramatic flourish, it threw those arms to its sides and roared, head thrust forward and maw unleashing the loud, terrible sound for as long as it could. Birger grimaced ever so slightly at both the sound, and the fearsome display, but stood fast regardless. He wouldn't let a mere show of force dissuade him, not when he'd actually managed to mark the monster. Just as he prepared to meet the Nightmare in combat yet again, however, something caught both combatants'' ears.

The fearful cry of a pup.

As a bloodcurdling, malicious smile grew on the Nightmare's face, Birger realized with horror what the true purpose of its show was. Its roar, while having little effect on the young dragon, severely frightened the pup he was protecting, causing it to reveal its position. The Nightmare turned its head away, and right towards the pine-hut Birger had hidden it in, all but chortling as it began to saunter to it. Birger screamed—not roared,  _screamed_  as the monster moved, and he bolted straight for it. All thought of self-preservation fell away as the young dragon jumped, and landed right on the back of the Nightmare. The monster roared in indignation before tossing itself about, trying to shake Birger off whilst also reaching around and trying to claw him off as well. It even backpedaled right for a tree, slamming backwards against the bark.

Birger cringed as he struck, nearly losing his grip on the Nightmare's shoulders and back, but refusing to release, and instead tightened his grip. The beast howled as the dragon's claws dug deeper, and it doubled its efforts to pry the youth off. It managed to get a hit, unfortunately; its long claws leaving long, bleeding marks along Birger's right shoulder and upper leg. He screamed in pain, and finally lost his hold as he fell to the snow. Luckily, he landed on his right, and the snow felt good and cold against the stinging slashes.

This helped in another way, as well. A spark ignited deep in the frost dragon's belly, and as his eyes snapped open, they were lit aglow with a faint cyan light. Ice and cold and snow began to swell within and without, as the once still air began to stir.

The Nightmare, which had previously been approaching the pup, paused and turned back, glaring at Birger over its pricked shoulder.

The young frost dragon stood tall, oddly without recognition of the wound he'd suffered. Dervishes of snow swirled around him, and as he exhaled, his breath seemed to fog—in truth, it merely frosted as it left his body, the air from his own chest somehow  _colder_  than the air around them. Ice steadily began to accumulate along Birger's body, encasing his claws, and adhering to the antler-stubs just behind his stiff horse-like ears, and even onto them as well. Birger glared death at the monster before him, his once wide pupils contracted to fierce, bestial slits. A cool, icy rage churned in his chest—one he'd never felt before, but he'd heard tales from the Elders. Rages such as this were unique, rare moments, and each occurrence was regarded almost as legend by their kind; for to feel this rage was to have something important, something  _bonded to_ , threatened.

And the ice magic inherent in all frost dragons reacted, finally awakening in the youth for the first time.

Birger dropped down, all four paws outstretched and arms taut as he charged, head low but mouth open, ice and frost thickening on his breath. The Nightmare seemed wary, slowly turning more towards him, but it was too late. The frost dragon threw his head back, the ice magic chilling and churning in his mouth, before thrusting it forward and releasing the freezing energy. A wave of pure cold, of ice and magic and rage, bore down upon the Nightmare and struck it full on. The monster screamed as it felt a pain like never before, fur stiffening and limbs seizing and its very breath being stolen away by the sheer  _cold_  that came upon it. It was so cold, so  _very cold_ , that it  _burned_.

Writhing in agony, the Nightmare panicked and fled, falling to all fours and barreling out of the clearing as quickly as its ravaged form could.

Birger staggered, his breath suddenly hard to catch, and spots danced in his vision. Taking a moment to finally get a hold of some air, he blinked and lightly shook his head. The young dragon always knew he had ice magic deep within—all of his kind did, and he saw his elders use it multiple times—but he'd had yet to unlock it himself. Until now, of course. But before he could revel in his achievement, a soft cry brought Birger out of his musings. He quickly padded over to the piling of branches where he'd hidden the pup. He found her still there, laying upon the blanket he'd brought her in, and he sighed in relief. Reaching his nose in, Birger gently brushed her small face with his fuzzy muzzle, reassured by her gentle cooing at the nuzzle.

Till Birger looked closely, and noticed the small thing's lips were tinted blue.

Birger's eyes widened, and his breath hitched in his throat. While he knew nothing of the pup's kind, he couldn't be wrong in assuming blue was not a color they should be. Especially since the pup's lips had just been a bright pink back in the cave. As he cringed, deftly swaddling the creature-pup in the blanket and placing her back in the spot between his shoulders, Birger cursed her kind's lack of fur.

 _They just simply aren't built for this weather! Why, oh why would the pup's parents come here with her in tow?! It's_ beyond  _foolish!_

All these rants and more churned in the young frost dragon's mind as he ran, desperately trying to get back to the valley and get help. While he knew not how the others—especially his sire—would react, he wasn't sure what to do to keep the pup from freezing. There had to be something…  _anything_  that he could do! Birger slowed to a stop for a brief moment to look back and check on her. The pup held still in the fuzzy cocoon, her eyes closed and her little, so little mouth parted. The lips were still blue… The dragon winced, fear and shame filling his chest.

Then he remembered something his dam had once told him.

_"It's not just our fur that protects from the cold, syna. It is also our magic, magic that is one with our home, and makes us a part of it. Without it, we would more easily be able to feel the bite of our own breath."_

Birger pursed his fluffy lips, staring at the pup nestled atop the mane between his shoulder blades as he considered. An idea had entered his mind, but it was a desperate one. He wasn't even sure if it would work…but as he watched the pup shiver, a quiet whimper escape her wee mouth, the frost dragon scowled in determination.

For the little one's sake, he would try.

Looking around for a good spot, Birger scampered off to the shelter of a large, old pine tree. He reached his head around and gently gripped the scruff of the blanket around the pup, and slowly, cautiously brought her around in front of him. With her securely gripped in his mouth, the young dragon fell to his belly and crawled beneath the pointy boughs of the pine. Birger then curled in the narrow but sufficient valley near its trunk, gently laying the pup on the snow between his big-for-his-age paws. She lay face up, her chubby face already having paled somewhat from the cold, an uncomfortable frown marring the young face.

Birger pushed past the guilt that lanced his heart, closed his eyes and focused. Thanks to the previous bout of ice magic, access to it was now much more readily available to the young dragon. He searched deep within, and once he found it, tapped it and felt it surge through his bones. Not entirely sure what he was doing, but too desperate and too far into the process now, Birger directed the magic to a fixed point. Slowly but surely, ice magic leaked from his body and formed a sphere in the air just before his fluffy nose. The bright, teal-blue sphere gently hovered in place, glowing and pulsating with frigid energy. It  _seemed_  harmless, and gentle—like perhaps it wouldn't hurt the pup. After only a moment of hesitation, Birger cringed, closed his eyes, and pushed the sphere of magic through the blanket and into the pup.

Instantly, a bolt of… _something_  passed through Birger, causing his eyes to snap open wide. He sucked in a deep breath, blinking at the strange sensation he'd just felt. It was… actually kind of comforting, almost. He felt just a bit more whole, if the dragon were being honest with himself. Shaking his head, Birger looked down at the pup to see how she fared. He tilted his head curiously, and a big grin broke out on his face. The pup looked fine—that odd pink color she'd been previously had returned to her fur-less skin, and she no longer frowned in discomfort. Birger sighed in relief, beyond grateful that his desperate plan hadn't backfired.

With the immediate problem solved, Birger carefully held a portion of the blanket in his mouth again as he crawled out from under the pine tree. Once out, he paused to stretch his limbs and placed the pup on his back before he continued running back to the valley. Before long he found himself entering one of the few passes that led into the dragons' home, and felt a pressure lift off his chest. Birger could breathe a little better, now that he and the pup were safe within frost dragon borders. All he had to do now was report to his sire, and inform the greater dragon that his eldest pup was safe and sound.

And perhaps plead in defense of the pup, while he was at it.

As Birger proceeded further into the mountain-walled basin, he became aware of other frost dragons running to meet him. The young dragon slowed to a stop as the others did so as well, gulping down his apprehension as the first one spoke.

" _Ser_  Birger!" Birger frowned in annoyance at the dragon's use of the deferential title. "Where have you been?"

He opened his mouth, but another spoke up before he could answer, "Young  _ser!_  We were worried the Nightmare had gotten you!"

"Well, it just abo—"

" _Ser_ -!"

"BY THE MOUNTAIN, WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP?"

All of the frost dragons silenced at once, taken aback by the youth's outburst. Said youth was greatly annoyed, eyes wide and lips tensely pursed. He was just about to get onto them when a cry sounded from his back. While the older dragons all tilted their heads and glanced at each in confusion, Birger turned his head around and gently nudged the pup, softly apologizing for yelling. As he did so, one of the other dragons tentatively stepped forward.

" _S-ser_ …what is that on your back?"

Birger peeked back at them, and after a shoring breath, gripped the blanket by his teeth and lifted the pup off his back. He then, carefully, held her in one paw, agilely standing on three legs as he held her in one forearm. As the other dragons got a gander at the pup, they at once reared back in a collective gasp. One even had the nerve to stick out his tongue and grimace, earning a pointed glare from Birger.

"Wha-well, erm, um…"

"I've never seen such a creature."

"By the Mountain, what is it?"

"Frozen North, it's  _naked_ …"

That last one was more muttered than anything, but he'd heard regardless. Birger fought the urge to roll his eyes, and shrugged. "I'm not quite certain what it is either, but…"

Just then, a young dragon pup, hardly older than the creature-pup Birger was holding, scampered up to peek at her. The little pup giggled and smiled.

"It looks so funny!"

One of the adults scowled at the pup, "Olfken!"

The pup—Olfken—cowered and glanced back at his dam. "But dama! It is! It's all smooshy and has no fur!"

The dragoness glared at her pup regardless, but Birger just shrugged it off. "It's okay, Olf…she does look odd, but I don't think it's her fault."

The pup seemed to take assurance from the older pup's words, even if he continued to cower as he scampered to his dam's feet.

"Please,  _ser_ ," One of the other frost dragons began, "Where had you—"

It was interrupted as the heavy footsteps of a larger frost dragon sounded, and they all looked to see the Patriarch of their herd—Byrohk—approach them. All of the grown dragons immediately fell into reverent bows, but Birger did not. This was not out of disrespect, and was only partially due to the pup in his arm. Mostly, he didn't bow because—

" _Syna_ ," Byrohk began, uttering the word for "son" in their language in his deep, bass voice. "Where have you been?"

Birger dipped his head slightly, in respect to the dragon who was both his sire and his Patriarch. "I'd heard the cry of a pup,  _otets_. I simply went and rescued it…"

Byrohk's sharp blue eyes flickered to the pup in his son's arm before back up to equally blue eyes. "And what, pray tell, did you rescue this creature from? What was so dangerous you had to bring it  _here_  of all places?"

Birger's ears flicked back against his skull, but he kept his head from dipping any further. "I rescued it from the  _Nightmare_ ,  _otets_."

The other frost dragons gasped and murmured frightfully, Olfken and what other pups were near squeaking with fear and cowering behind their parents' legs. Byrohk's eyes hardened, no doubt at the recollection of the monster, and he sighed through his nose.

"And its parents?"

"They were already dead when I found their dwelling. The Nightmare was lying in wait, perhaps resting from its kill, I know not. B-but the pup was as of yet undiscovered, and I managed to save myself and it from its claws."

A frost dragon scoffed, and Byrohk growled and snapped at him in response. "You have something to comment, Grakkus?!"

Grakkus dipped his head, but glared back at his Patriarch. "Pardon me,  _tsar_ , but…I find it hard to believe such a youth, even if he is your pup, could have fended off the  _Nightmare_  on his own. His magic hasn't revealed itself to him yet!"

"Actually…"

All eyes turned to Birger, and he stood strong beneath their gazes.

"It has…now, anyway. I used it to burn the Nightmare and send it fleeing away from me."

When the grown dragons seemed skeptical—especially Grakkus—Birger scowled. "I swear on the bones of our Mountains, I flamed it with my ice and it fled."

Skepticism turned to shock, and they all looked to Byrohk. The Patriarch was still watching his pup carefully, before his eyes settled on the creature.

"Tell me,  _syna_ …what is your intention for the pup?"

Birger gulped, but raised his head and met his sire's eyes. "I couldn't leave her behind…"

"You're certain that it was alone?"

" _Da_ , there were no others that still breathed."

Byrohk closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head lightly. "You realize that you will have to care for her yourself." He opened his eyes and met Birger's. "You found her, you rescued her, you brought her here—all that occurs in her life from this point on is your responsibility."

Birger nodded solemnly. "I understand,  _otets_."

"And do you also understand that she cannot replace Shaila?"

At the mention of his slain sister's name, Birger fought hard not to grimace. He still couldn't forgive himself for losing track of her that day… but then, perhaps this was a second chance. No, this strange pup wouldn't replace Shaila—but perhaps she could fill the void that his sister left. The young dragon already felt a little more whole after what he'd done with his magic…

Birger nodded. " _Da_ …I do."

Byrohk watched him for a little while longer before sighing through his nostrils. "Very well then, it is decided. You shall watch over the pup."

Birger puffed out his chest, holding the pup who'd long since lost interest and fallen asleep closer to the scruff of mane there. A small smile came to his muzzle. "Thank you,  _otets_. She will make a fine little dragon, I'm su—"

"I said she can stay."

Birger cringed at the sharp interruption. Byrohk was now glaring at him as he began to turn away. "That does not make her my daughter."

The young frost dragon frowned, glancing at the pup. She seemed oblivious, and very much content where she lay. Birger knew his sire was just still sore, just like he was himself. It had been a horrible day for everyone, so many innocent pups lost… By the time he looked back up, everyone had begun to move off to their respective nests. Grakkus was giving him a particular scathing look as he sauntered off, though Birger boldly glared back. He knew the reason why the older male was being short with him, and he didn't care. Just as Birger was about to walk away as well, he noticed Olfken had lingered.

The younger pup slowly approached and peeked at the pup. Birger saw no harm, and so did not growl the other pup away. Olfken tilted his head curiously. "So what are you going to call her?"

Birger tilted his head as well, frowning in thought as he looked down at her. He scanned her intently until he noticed an oddity about the covering he'd brought her here in. Eyeing it more closely, he noticed it was strange markings in gold set into the deep blue of the blanket. It seemed to be in the shape of letters, and Birger struggled to read them. Despite his attempts, he could not translate the lettering…so instead, he got as close as he could.

"Elsa." Birger smiled—it fit, in his opinion. "I'll call her Elsa."

Olfken furrowed his brow incredulously, but shrugged. "Funny name, but I guess she's yours, so…"

Just then, the pup's dam called out to him, and the young one scampered off to follow. Now left to himself, Birger sighed and carefully placed the pup back between his shoulders. He slowly started off, strolling for a particular cave where his dam had once nested, many winters ago. Byrohk never went to that anymore, not after… well, suffice it to say Byrohk and Birger were a cursed pair, it seemed.

The young frost dragon was almost there, just a few strides from the opening in the crags when he felt an odd sensation on his shoulder. He looked just in time to watch as the pup all but slid off. With a yelp of fear, Birger swiftly brought up a paw to catch her, settling back onto his tail as he brought the other foreleg to secure her. This time, he'd placed her too close to the edge of his back, and the incline to the cave had compromised her stability on his back. The pup had begun to cry from the short fall, and Birger desperately tried to calm her, humming gently and shushing her. When it didn't seem to work, the young dragon glanced around desperately. In a flash of memory, Birger could all but hear his dam singing to him as she had done winters ago, when he was but a wee thing as well.

Though he did not think himself much of a singer, it was worth a try.

" _Come stop your crying, it'll be all right. Just take my paw, hold it tight._ " He held a single digit of one paw close to her, gently putting it in one of her small hands. Thankfully, she held it—and further thankfully, only the furry bit. Birger smiled gently, then continued. " _I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, don't you cry._ "

Relief washed over Birger as she actually seemed to calm, bright blue eyes meeting his… The young dragon frowned—hadn't her eyes been teal just before? And now that he looked, the minuscule tuft of brown hair that had been atop her round head was now a pale, goldish color. Though he knew next to nothing about her kind, he could guess that they didn't spontaneously change color.

_Perhaps…perhaps it was my ice magic…_

Now that he thought about it, and took a few sniffs of her, she now emanated the scent of ice magic as well. Before, she'd been clean of the scent.

Wary, now, but with nothing to do about it, Birger shook his head and instead gave the pup a gentle nuzzle with his nose. She giggled, and he smiled, deciding to walk the rest of the way into the cave three-legged. This made the process slower, but safer, as his foreleg proved more proficient at securely holding the pup. Once he was inside, he laid her down gently, giving her another nuzzle for comfort before trotting out of the cave. The young frost dragon made several trips as he brought in branch after branch from the pines outside. Even in the dim moonlight, it was an easy task to collect the branches. Birger continued this process until there was enough foliage inside to provide excellent padding for both him and the pup.

…for him, and for  _Elsa_.

Birger curled tightly around Elsa, gently pulling her against his chest, held fast by a foreleg. Certain that she would be all right, and comfortable, Birger laid his head down and closed his eyes. His sharp ears caught the sound of an infantile yawn, and he smiled, knowing she was falling asleep as well.

That night proved to be the first peaceful rest the young dragon had had in some time…


	3. Meeting of Exiles, Part 1

_8 years later…_

* * *

 

Bright rays of fresh sunlight streamed onto the land as dawn broke, quickly illuminating a snowy forest near the foothills of the mountains. The light glistened off of the snow everywhere it lay, and it covered the near entirety of the forest. Here and there, the boughs of pines rustled and cried out in triumph as they were finally free of the condensed powder. Said powder protested as it met the rest on the ground, but eventually settled regardless. However, here and there…the snow did not fall upon its own kind; instead it fell on fur that nearly met its shade. But not all the frost dragons slept where the snow could fall upon them. One young dragon, who’d grown mightily into his eighteenth winter, rested in the sheltered alcove he’d carved out beneath the boughs of an ancient pine, where little snow powdered the earth underneath.

The wooden beast was several dozens of meters taller than the eldest dragon of the heard, leaving plenty of room at its base for a young dragon such as Birger to claw away its lowest branches and make a veritable cave amongst the emerald needles. It was there that Birger laid, snoring loudly as he lay curled on one side. His strong torso rose and fell with the stuttered breaths, broken up by the occasional snort. Said snorting seemed to only increase in occurrence, forcing Birger to gradually waken as he was repeatedly disturbed. He growled in annoyance as he lifted his head, careful not to get his lengthened antlers caught in any branches. But when the young dragon scanned the alcove he’d carved, he didn’t see any sign of what was disturbing him. Then his previously annoyed expression hardened in concern as he realized he was the only thing in the makeshift cave.

Birger’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his chest.

_Where’s Elsa?!?_

The dragon rolled to lay upright, swinging his head around and even standing up ever so slightly to check beneath him. The young pup was nowhere to be seen, and Birger was quickly beginning to panic. His lips pulled back in a fearful cringe, and strong chest shuddered as it was threatened by hyperventilation. Over the eight winters since he’d rescued her, they’d quickly become close, and one wouldn’t even remember they weren’t siblings were it not for… _obvious_ differences. As such, Birger had grown immensely protective of the younger pup, the trials of the first couple of winters thankfully lessened as the young frost dragon recalled how his dam had reared his younger blood-siblings.

Suddenly, a loud but youthful bark sounded above Birger’s head, his ears snapping back against his skull in protest. He flinched, shaking his head before he looked up at the branches above him. Birger immediately glared at the perpetrator, ears now pinned for a different reason.

“Having fun now, are we?” Birger grumbled at the pup perched on a thick branch above him.

From where she hung, clinging to a branch above the dragon’s head, Elsa smiled mischievously and giggled. “Yep! Why do you ask?”

Birger narrowed his eyes and glared at his adopted little sister. The pup certainly was ornerier than he’d expected…but then, she was being reared by _him_. It actually wasn’t as surprising as the dragon thought it was.

“No reason…” He growled, before smirking ever so slightly.

Before the pup could react, Birger swiftly reached his tail up and curled the end around Elsa. She squeaked in surprise as he pried her off of the piney bough and held her directly in front of his snout. The young girl blushed as the older dragon raised an eyebrow at her, and she proceeded to bury her face in the excessive fluff of his poufy tail to hide. Birger merely chuckled before plopping the fur-less pup on his snout. Elsa giggled as he did so before wrapping all four limbs around his muzzle and snuggling into it. The same warm feeling he’d felt the first time the pair had ever snuggled was now lit within the frost dragon once more. Birger merely smiled at the little one as he closed his eyes and thrummed, the vibrations echoing outward from his chest and straight to the pup on this nose.

The sweet moment was interrupted by a howl that resonated throughout the forest. Birger’s ears twitched upward as they caught the wake-up call; any dragons still resting would now be rising to the signal. He looked back to the pup to see that Elsa had raised her head, and was looking off toward where the howl had come from. Birger snorted lightly, and she met his azure eyes with her own cerulean ones—the dragon could still remember when they’d once been teal, and her hair had been brown, instead of the pale gold it was now. But of course, that had been before he’d shared his magic with her. A magic she’d seem to adapt and all but produce herself.

It was a point of pride for the young frost dragon that not only had his decision saved the young pup, but that she’d taken to the magic as if she’d already been born with it. Though this had done nothing to affect the herd patriarch’s opinion of the little adopted “dragon”. But then, the fact that the shared magic also seemed to connect the pair all but directly from heart to heart hadn’t helped either, seeming to further grate on the elder dragon’s nerves.

“I’m going to have to go and hunt for breakfast with the other youths now.” Birger spoke softly, watching the pup intently. “Can I count on you to stay out of trouble while I’m gone?”

Elsa snuggled tighter on his muzzle, but maintained eye contact as she nodded. “O-okay…b-but do you really have to go _today?_ ” She rested her chin on his fur as she continued. “Some of the alfkalens were gonna come out of their caves to play, and I wanted you to come too…”

The frost dragon gave his sister a gentle smile, but shook his head as slowly as he could so as not to risk dropping her. “I’m sorry _malyutka_ , but you know I have to. Byrohk would be angry with me if I spurned the morning hunt in favor of playtime. I know I’ve explained this to you before, Elsa…”

While it pained Birger enough to utter the words he had, it all but killed him to watch the little one’s face fall. Cringing mightily, Birger lowered his head while also lifting a foot, carefully depositing the pup on the padded bottom of his paw. The dragon then held her against his chest, and as she hugged him tightly he returned it in full, giving her as strong a hug as he dared, perpetually concerned for his sister as Birger was. He thrummed soothingly, his great chest vibrating and easing the young girl snuggled against it.

He paused the humming for a moment to speak. “I won’t be gone long, I promise.” Birger smirked, chuckling softly before continuing. “Besides, by the time we’ll be back, you’ll be so hungry you’ll be glad I left.”

Elsa seemed unconcerned by whether or not that was true, instead giving him one more squeeze. She didn’t let go, though. Birger sighed and shook his head before he gently pulled her away. Doubtless she would’ve stayed put if she could, the pup allowed her big brother to pry her off his chest and carefully set her down on the only slightly snowy dirt. Elsa stood back, her vulnerable, fur-less “paws” covered in strips of fur Birger himself had found and cured. Together the pair had somehow managed to fashion them into covers for the pup’s feet. She brushed off the white furs that had managed to cling to the additional furs that covered her small frame, and also served to protect her exposed body—or, at least, exposed in the opinion of the excessively fluffy frost dragons.

Birger stood as well, though not fully since the alcove beneath the pine’s branches was not quite large enough for that. He lowered his head to Elsa’s level, nuzzling her once more with his nose and giving her a light sniffle that made her giggle. With a smirk and a wink, the dragon turned and half-walked half-crawled out from their piney cave and into the open. As soon as he was free of the needled boughs, Birger stretched mightily, focusing on one limb at a time as he waved side to side, craning his neck all the while and making sure there weren’t any kinks he forgot. Just as soon as he’d finished stretching, another howl sounded, this one coming from a different direction. Going into one more rolling, full-body stretch for good measure, Birger shook himself and started off into a trot for the point of the last howl, it having been a signal point to gather at.

_I’ll be right back, Elsa. It shan’t take but a few hours at most._

* * *

 

 

_I’ll be right back…_

The echo of his promise remained on the young girl’s mind as she laid in the snow at the precipice of the pine tree’s boundary, resting her chin on her arms as she watched her big brother canter off to meet with the other older dragons to go off and hunt for breakfast. This was always Elsa’s least favorite part of everyday—when Birger had to leave to join the hunts. Unfortunately, it was required; Birger was not only one of the fittest of the frost dragons his age, but he was also the eldest pup of the herd’s patriarch. If he didn’t go and hunt, how would that reflect on Byrohk? Not well, surely. And Byrohk did not appreciate things not being well.

Elsa sighed as Birger disappeared in the trees, eyes falling to the pristine snow covering all the ground. As annoying as it was, in a way, Elsa understood. Her brother was burdened with much responsibility thanks to his relation to their leader, and, well…it was in both of their best interests for him to adhere to Byrohk’s will. Because for some reason, the elder dragon did not like Elsa. And the look of pain Birger got in his eyes every time she made to ask why would always end in her dropping it before forcing him to say something he didn’t want to.

One more time, a long, loud howl sounded throughout the forest the herd had rested in, drawing Elsa’s attention back away from her thoughts. This one was not a call to join, or a call to gather—this was the one signaling to the idle members that the hunt was afoot, and the youths would not be back for some time.

Elsa scowled and pursed her lips. She did not like that howl.

The young girl finally got tired of lying in the snow and mentally griping about her brother’s regular departure. Elsa stood, deftly avoiding the edges of the outermost branches of the pine tree as she swept off the snow that stuck to her furs. The furs, formerly belonging to a musk deer, were different shades of brown with white streaks through them. The two thin sabers the deer formerly wielded were still attached to the overall hide, hanging decoratively below the neckline. They were dull now, though; so when Elsa brushed off the snow around her chest and her fingers touched the fangs, it was entirely safe.

Birger had made sure of that when they’d fashioned the outfit.

Elsa slowly walked away from the tree, gazing about the forest the herd had nested in. Most of the trees were pines, like the one where she and Birger had dwelled beneath, though there were a few that did not bear the green needles, and their branches reached out higher than the pines. The young blonde smiled as she looked at those particular trees. The higher branches didn’t mean Elsa couldn’t climb them, oh no—since their branches were actually sturdier, it was _easier_. But then, climbing trees was usually easy for the girl; it was one of the few things she could do better than the other dragons. Her keen eyes drifted upward, cerulean gaze resting on the mighty peak of a nearby mountain.

Trees were easy for Elsa…but she’d always wanted to climb a mountain. The older dragons always made it look so easy.

Because she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was walking as her thoughts wandered, Elsa was unprepared when a step didn’t meet snow as soon as it should’ve and instead fell a couple inches below the other. As such, the blonde stumbled, but managed to keep herself outright by throwing her arms out. When she looked down, Elsa noticed the snow she’d just stepped on had already been trod over, and thus much lower than the rest of the snow. As she examined the print, and then her small fur-wrapped foot, her heart became suddenly and uncomfortably heavy.

It was one of Birger’s prints…and as the young pup compared it to her own foot, she pursed her lips as her face burned with shame.

_They don’t match…_

Elsa was suddenly grateful for the distance between her and her brother—if he’d been closer, Birger surely would’ve felt her severe distress, the magic they shared mystically connecting them as it had. Shaking her head hard to dispel the awful feeling, frosted platinum locks hitting her face with the motions, Elsa turned away and trudged off towards the edge of the forest. The young pup was getting tired of feeling down, and knew there was one place that would be the next best thing to Birger suddenly coming back.

The Alfkalens.

A long walk through the dense, snow-laden forest found Elsa standing before a stone crevice. The sharp crack in the ground looked almost to be a wound, and there was a mysterious lack of snow surrounding it. It was not a perfect circumference, mostly due to the cause of the near-tropical spot not being magical, actually. Few trees stood near the crevice, despite the warmth it offered, but what ones were close stood in sharp, colorful contrast to their blanketed comrades. As Elsa approached and crossed the boundary of warmth, she shuddered; the heat did not feel right. The snow and cold had become a part of her life, and all but a part of her—entering this warm spot to play with the alfkalens was one of the few cons involved.

But she needn’t stay in the bubble of temperateness for long, for as soon as she’d passed into it the small denizens of the crack in the earth were aware of her presence. The ice magic within her was like a beacon to them, standing out in the midst of the heat. Thus it was that, as Elsa stood patiently, peering into the crevice for any sign of her friends, the creatures soon emerged.

The alfkalens came out one by one, their lizard-like forms scurrying quickly across the rock as they streamed out of the fissure. There were only a couple of dozen that came out, though they were only the tip of how many truly inhabited the hollow in the earth. While the rest of their kind were either occupied, or simply uninterested in playtime, these individuals had enthusiastically awaited the morning of the little dragon-pup’s arrival. They chirped in excitement, and Elsa smiled and giggled at the noise. She knew the alfkalens didn’t like making too much noise, not unless they really wanted to. It made her happy they had been looking forward to playtime just as much, if not more so, than her.

Thus it was that Elsa led her little brigand of alfkalens through the snow-laden forest, the cold mountain air hissing softly as it struck the warm hides of the little creatures. Said beings gallivanted all around her: some leaped from tree to tree, using their lone wings to give them an extra boost to the next tree; others bounded through the snow at her feet. The latter ones, due to their diminutive size as opposed to the foot of snow, quite literally bounded; popping up out of the snow, trails of water droplets falling from them as the snow on their hides melted, only to disappear back into the powder. They squeaked all the while, only making Elsa giggle more as she sprinted through the woods with them. But many were not satisfied with merely traipsing through the trees. No, some tackled one another, or even tackled the dragon pup herself!

This quickly led to the horde of lizards piling on her, forming a humorous growth on her back as all of them joined in the effort to topple Elsa. Working together, piling on top of one another, they certainly did try. But the young girl would not give in so easily, and though their combined weight certainly made standing a challenge, she remained on her feet. One thing didn’t stop: Elsa’s giggling. The joyful laughter echoed out into the forest, even as some of the alfkalens twittered happily as well. Eventually, some of the creatures jumped off of Elsa’s back (or in some cases, off their kin), and continued to meander through the snow.

While some remained fast to her furs, others took back to the trees, and a game of chase quickly spread amongst the ranks of the light-affiliated creatures. Elsa only partially joined in the chase, partaking in short bursts of running after an alfkalen, causing it to squeak in panic and flap away, before slowing and smiling. The creatures attached to her back and shoulders either nuzzled into her, or began to tussle with the others, playfully trying to detach their kin.

Eventually they reached a clearing in the wood, sunlight streaming down unhindered and all but lighting the snow on fire, it shimmered so. The clearing was mostly unbroken, save for a solitary tree trunk that lay broken and bare on its side near the center. It must have once been a part of a grand tree, for the trunk was so thick it was nearly as wide as the young pup was tall. It was a good length of it, too—as Elsa walked alongside, trailing a hand on its bark as she walked, it took her several steps to make it from one end to the other. The alfkalens scurried to and fro all along it, sniffing the wood curiously with their too-large noses.

While the majority of them continued the aromatic scan, one of them flapped its one wing and landed on Elsa’s shoulder.

The young pup smiled as it perched there and met her eyes. She would never get over how an alfkalen’s eyes looked—how the eye looked like a bed of embers, all red and orange and yellow, with the single black slit in the middle. Potentially startling, sure, but Elsa herself thought it was pretty.

The alfkalen, whose name Elsa knew was Colphin, tilted its head and spoke, its high-pitched and trilling voice a delight to listen to. “This tree is very strange, Elsa. We’re still trying to figure out what it is, but it smells normal.”

The blonde girl frowned and tilted her head as well. “If it smells okay, how do ya know it’s weird?”

The little lizard looked back to where its kin continued to scamper over the long, fallen trunk. Many had begun to whimper uncertainly, and the fact that Elsa could hear them easily caused her to frown all the harder in worry. One could only hear an alfkalen’s sounds if they were _really_ feeling something… They weren’t frightened, per say, so much as they were confused and worried.

“The tree may have been passed on for a long time, but its scent still reigns strong. If something’s hiding within, we can’t smell it.”

Elsa frowned at Colphin before she looked back at the trunk, putting her hand to its bark once again. She felt a twinge of worry herself as she considered a possibility that had happened across her mind.

“What if something’s in there and it’s hurt?!” Elsa blurted to the lizard on her shoulder.

The little thing flinched from the combination of proximity and volume, but shrugged regardless. “I-I’m not sure, Elsa-fu. If there is, the tree is hiding it well.”

Without a second thought, Elsa broke into a sprint as she hurried for one of the tree’s ends. When she reached it, not only did she notice it was hollow (the alfkalen was right, it had been dead for some time), but there were scuff marks on the ground. Dirt and snow intermingled unwillingly from where something had forced its way inside. Elsa squinted as she scanned the marks; they were too obscured and frantic to tell what kind of foot even made them. Just as she was about to lean down to sniff the tracks, a sound from deeper in the truck caught her attention. It was too dark to see, but the knocking against the inside of the tree sounded too hard to be a paw or anything.

No, this sounded more like a hoof.

Elsa gulped, feeling afraid for just a moment before she took a deep breath. She held up a hand, slowly, and made a small ball of ice magic that lit the inside of the tree aglow in a soft blue color. Another burst of shuffling sounded, but this time there was sniffling and whimpering as well. Elsa hesitated for only a moment before she started crawling in, one hand extended to hold out the magical sphere.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you I promise.” Elsa implored to whatever was hiding within, genuine in her claim but still worried. She didn’t know what it was, and a part of her feared it would attack. But the pup wanted to hope, wanted to believe it was nice, just maybe hurt a little.

More whimpering sounded, with a very slight rustling, as if whatever was inside was curling in on itself. Elsa continued to scooch in further, straining to peer through the shadow that defied her magic’s light. Eventually though, that blue glow fell upon…a hoof! That explained the odd scuff marks before, and the dense thudding she’s heard.  As the blonde pup held up her light, it revealed more of the small creature. Hooves, four legs, lots of fur. Said limbs quivered a lot, as if they were hurting, and there were dark marks on the fur. As Elsa took an experimental sniff, she all but gagged as she recognized a scent the tree had disguised: blood.

A shaky voice broke through her disgust and caught the pup’s attention. “P-please stay aw-w-way…”

The fear and pain in the voice made Elsa’s heart ache, and she bit her lip as she hesitated. She didn’t want to scare the little beast, but she didn’t want to leave it either.

“I just wanna help you.” She assured it, trying to sound as nice and not scary as she could.

The legs spasmed, and it seemed like the creature was going to stand, but it yelped in pain and fell back down. Elsa immediately lunged forward to help, and thus her light revealed the rest of the beast. The legs led up to a strong but youthful equine frame, but at where the neck of it would be was instead an odd, flat chest. Two arms that looked kinda like hers but much fluffier curled around its waist tightly, but why, Elsa couldn’t tell. When Elsa looked up to see its face—fluffy and goaty, with two little tusks peeking past its lips—she met its brown eyes with her own blue ones. While its face was lit blue by Elsa’s magic, she could tell its fur was at least some shade of white.

Elsa tried to smile gently, but the beast shook his head anyway, pursing its fluffy lips in a way that kinda reminded her of Birger. He’d do that a lot too, but for a different reason.

“I won’t hurt you,” She said once more. “I promise!”

The third time must’ve done something, for a nigh on hopeful glint shimmered in his eyes. Just as Elsa was about to smile, relieved by the small bit of progress, and Colphin suddenly zipped into the trunk, its sunny hide further alighting the cramped space. The beast jumped in surprised and pushed itself farther away, the alfkalen’s yellow light flickering dreadfully on his furry face.

“Elsa!” Colphin squeaked in alarm. “We have to leave! A vylrashkin comes!”

Elsa paled, a pit of dread forming in her stomach. The great whimper of despair from the little beast didn’t help matters, either. Vylrashkins were large, brutish beasts that had tussles with frost dragons often, and didn’t like it when their territory was intruded upon. They were also very strong, and their earth magic made them very hardy beasts. A grown frost dragon would have a hard time fighting one…Elsa would be lucky to run from one. With an injured companion to slow her down? The group of small ones was in grave danger.

Elsa looked back to the young beast, her eyes pleading even as her lips pulled back in a grimace. “Please, if we don’t leave now, the vylrash might kill us!”

To her dismay, he shook his head. “N-no, it’s after me anyways! Just leave, it won’t find me here, the tree is hiding me!”

The alfkalen on Elsa’s shoulder shook its head vigorously. “You misunderstand, young byalfkelk. It already knows you’re here!” At the young… _byalfkelk’s_ (apparently its species is called) confused yelp, Colphin continued. “Vylrashkins wield earth magic; rock and earth are a part of their nature. Since trees are connected to the earth, they can sense things _through_ the trees. The brute is headed straight for this trunk! You’re hiding in its own element!”

The young byalfkelk gaped in a look of utter terror before he scrambled to his feet, though he had to bend his upper body down, and could not fully straighten his legs. With this obvious show of compliance, Elsa quickly scurried out of the trunk, byalfkelk right behind her. When the pair emerged from the wooden hollow, the alfkalens all flew up to them at the same point a deep, rumbling roar echoed throughout the forest. A chorus of frightening twittering spread through the rabble as they crowded around Elsa, several of them perching themselves on the young pup. A scant few dared to land on the byalfkelk’s back, but he seemed too concerned by the roar to care. He seemed to be all but shrinking into himself, clasped hands held close to his chest, ducking his down as while his four legs quivered with fear beneath him.

As a second roar sounded, Elsa closed her eyes as she tilted her head, listening closely. Before the roar had even ended, she pointed off in the distance. “The vylrashkin is coming from that way, and…” Another roar, this one beginning before the last one had even begun to echo.

Elsa’s eyes snapped open in fear. “Oh no…”

“W-w-what?!” The byalfkelk whimpered.

The young pup slowly began to back away from where she’d pointed before. “There’s more than one! And they’re coming this way, Colphin was right!”

Colphin stared slack-jawed at where the beasts were coming from. “I was right _and_ wrong! We didn’t know there was more than one!”

Elsa grabbed the byalfkelk’s shoulder, ignoring his startled jump as she frantically tried to drag him behind her. “We have to go! We have to get out of here, come on!”

Without a second thought, the pair fled in the opposite direction of the bellows, the alfkalen’s leaping and running all round them in a sunny glow. The group ran and ran, dodging past trees and struggling to make it to safety. While the young byalfkelk didn’t know where he was being led, the strange pup and the alfkalens strangers to him, the stampeding danger chasing the lot of them overruled that. The fact that a loud rumbling had been steadily growing louder only served to hasten the group’s retreat. The vylrashkins were technically slower, but they were much larger, with much longer legs. Thus their more lengthened strides and potentially anger-fueled run was allowing them to catch up with their prey.

As Elsa skillfully jumped over roots and ducked between low branches despite her breakneck speed, she found herself wishing deeply that Birger was with them. While even her brother would be unable to fend off a whole group of vylrashkins, he at least could outrun them! As it was, the group would be lucky if they reached the area where the dragons were nesting before the brutes had caught up with them. Amidst this, however, Elsa was aware of Colphin managing to leap from her shoulder and successfully land on the young byalfkelk’s instead. Despite keeping most of her focus on maintaining her balance and speed, she did manage to overhear the alfkalen chastise the young beast.

“What did you do, byalfkelk?! Why are the vylrashkins hunting you?”

The byalfkelk’s response were punctuated by shallow breaths as he spoke while running. “I…didn’t…do anything! …I swear!”

Elsa could hear Colphin hiss, and flinched.

The alfkalen was _very_ angry.

“ _Niclash!_ ” Elsa flinched even harder at the lizard’s use of a curse. At this moment, she did not find the alfkalen’s voice pleasant. “What did you do to them?! They are beyond angered, I can hear it in their roars!”

The young pup didn’t dare look away from the ground she soared over, though could imagine the young beast was cringing.

“I…might’ve…well I…”

“Spit it out!”

_“I broke the horn off of one!”_

Time seemed to freeze, mostly because the entire group skid to a halt just to stare at the byalfkelk in complete shock.

 _“YOU DID WHAT!?!”_ Elsa and every single alfkalen presented shouted in unison.

The young beast grimaced as he curled in on himself in shame. He then reached behind him, lifting his tail and pulling out something that had been tied in the fluffy strands of fur. The byalfkelk held it out for them to see, causing Elsa and the alfkalens to back away as if the horn would somehow end them all.

But then, given the situation that was more or less true.

Colphin hissed again, shaking its head. “You foolish, reckless, mind-numb foal! Byalfkelks are supposed to be smarter than this!”

Elsa glared at the alfkalen, who had the good sense to grimace at her look. “He’s just little, like me! He didn’t know better!”

The byalfkelk whined and shook his head. “But I should have! I should’ve left it alone! B-but, but my big brother yelled at me! He called me a coward, he said I couldn’t do anything brave. He said stealing a horn from a vylrashkin would be brave. I just wanted to prove him wrong!”

He whined again as he fell, legs folding beneath him as he began to cry. “I-I j-j-just…I just w-wanted to be brave…”

The light of all the alfkalens dimmed as they witnessed the byalfkelk’s anguish. Colphin and those who’d agreed with it dimmed the most, ashamed at having thought ill of the young beast. Elsa slowly walked up to him before kneeling next to him and putting a hand on his furry shoulder.

“It’s okay to wanna be brave…but I don’t think your brother’s idea was a good one. Or really a brave one.”

The byalfkelk merely kept his head low, and Elsa pursed her lips. “I know you’re upset, but we gotta go! The vylrashkins are catching up, and you can’t prove your mean brother wrong if we don’t go!”

This seemed to get his attention as he looked up to meet her eyes. The young beast frowned, seeming conflicted by her words, before he finally gave in and nodded. The pair got to their feet (four on his part), and the group took flight once more. Unfortunately, their empathetic pause had given the earthen brutes time to catch up, and the previously distant rumble of their stampeding had now escalated to a startlingly-close thundering. This encouraged them to run harder, but eventually, the alfkalens following them began to lag behind. Though Elsa did not stop running, she glanced at her shoulder briefly to see that Colphin had perched there.

“Elsa, listen to me,” He whispered fervently in her ear. “Whatever you do, don’t stop running!”

The young pup kept her eyes before her, but frowned at the little lizard’s words. “W-what? Colphin, what’re you talking about?”

“At this rate, the vylrashkins will overtake you. I and my kin shall slow them down enough for you and the foal to regain your lead.”

Elsa shook her head, still keeping her eyes on the path. “B-b-but what about you guys? What if they hurt you?!”

She couldn’t see, but the pup figured that Colphin shook his head. “We will be fine, Elsa. Even if they somehow strike us, we can always heal ourselves. Now fly, Elsa, _fly!_ ”

The alfkalen flapped off of her shoulder, and Elsa gasped as she felt a rush of energy. The cramping and burning she’d felt from all of the running was suddenly gone, replaced with more stamina than she knew what to do with. She risked a glance to her right to see an alfkalen—not Colphin—had just leaped off of the byalfkelk’s shoulder, leaving him with the same rejuvenation she’d gained. Now refreshed and already at a breakneck pace, the pair poured it on as the alfkalen swarmed behind them. Not moments later, Elsa could hear enraged roaring and growling, accompanied by deafening rumbling. Though she was worried about the small yellow lizards, the pup knew she had to trust that they’d be all right. Elsa just hoped that she and the byalfkelk could make full use of this distraction…

The young pup didn’t want to despair of seeing Birger again…


	4. Meeting of Exiles, Part 2

They’d been running so long, Elsa wasn’t sure she’d ever find a marker that told her they were getting close to the others. She knew she was going the right way…she had to be. Birger had taught her well, the young pup remembered the path she’d taken to the alfkalens, and that she and they had taken to where the byalfkelk had been hiding. Elsa had just begun to lose hope of finding the other dragons when, thankfully, she caught a scent and skidded to a stop. The byalfkelk didn’t realize she’d stop for a couple more paces, coming to a stop himself and turning back around.

“What’re you doing?!” He demanded as he trotted up to her.

Elsa knelt down, resting a hand on the snow as she lowered her face and sniffed. Her head popped up as she smiled at the young beast.

“I smell my herd! The dragons are just this way, come on!”

She broke into a run straight from her knelt position, veering to her left as she heard the byalfkelk scamper to catch up with her. As the pair ran once more, Elsa occasionally sniffed the air here and there to keep track of the others, the once distant rumbling of their pursuers had become more evident again. While the byalfkelk was panicked once more, scared to death of being caught by the earthen brutes, Elsa was all but smiling with hope. If she was close enough to smell them, then…

Not breaking stride once, Elsa held a hand out and focused her magic in her palm. It took a few paces, but finally a concentrated, dense orb of her ice magic had formed. The young pup skillfully shot her hand up, never once faltering in her run, and the orb shoot into the air. It soared high into the air, far above the tops of even the tallest of the trees, before it exploded it a soft yet bright flare. The fractals of ice that spiraled outward from it reflected the intense sunlight, multiplying the visibility of the blast tenfold. Under normal circumstances, Elsa would’ve watched the display with wonder and smiled. But she didn’t dare even glance at it now—it was nothing more than a signal.

To alert the other dragons’ to her location…and her predicament.

It was mere moments later, when the pair had run till even their renewed energy had begun to give out, that a howl cut through the air. It was the howl of a frost dragon, and it brought a relieved smile to the young pup’s face. Elsa heard her companion’s anxious moan, however, and immediately spoke.

“No, it’s okay! It’s my herd! They saw my signal, they’re gonna sav—!”

But before she’d even finished, a guttural howl responded to the dragon one, deeper and angrier, and coming from behind rather than in front. It was frighteningly close too, much closer than the dragon howl. That is, until yet another dragon howled, this one livid and challenging; and just up ahead. The pair skidded to a stop in the middle of a large clearing just as a dragon, tall and strong, broke through the tree line with a growl. Just as Elsa’s hope rose and she smiled at the sight of one of her kin, both fell all the quicker as she recognized the individual.

It was Grakkus.

The tall, imposing warrior prowled forward, his body hunkered low and tense, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. He was scowling fiercely, but not at Elsa. _Not yet…_ the young pup nervously watched the dragon as he glared, before it clicked in her mind and she spun around. Behind her stood a vylrashkin…and her heart all but stopped. Elsa and the byalfkelk fled to hide behind Grakkus’ leg as the former gaped in awe at the beast.

It was so _big_ , bigger even than Byrohk, and much thicker. It hissed and snarled, its angular head hovering threateningly low. Of course, its whole body was already low—its kind were not tall, their legs short compared to a frost dragon’s (though very long compared to Elsa’s and the byalfkelk’s). The hard, spiked shell on its back became increasingly evident as the beast leaned forward, bending its stubby legs as it kneaded the snowy ground with its paws. The appendages could hardly be called such, not even bearing toes, just claws where the toes would be. Beyond that, its feet were trunk-like, and its legs were even more so. Then, the vylrashkin spoke, its voice so deep and bass that Elsa could feel it in her chest, as if the earth itself were speaking.

“Back off, _draco gelu_! These younglings have scorned me, and as such they are mine by right!”

Grakkus snarled, the jagged scar on his face alarmingly gnarled amidst his anger. “ _Chush' sobach'ya_ , you muddy ingrate!”

The vylrashkin reared back its head in indignation, though it did not go far, given that its neck was shorter than its legs, and the beast’s shell extended slightly over it. Before it could retaliate, Grakkus continued.

“Byalfkelks are pathetic cowards, _especially_ when young. I doubt the foal even so much as met your eye.”

The young byalfkelk frowned as he shrunk into himself.

“As for the other, she is but a hairless whelp and too weak to have done anything to a vylrashkin such as yourself.”

Elsa wanted to scowl, and she did a little bit; but she also sighed and shook her head. It was Grakkus, after all…there wasn’t much else to expect.

The vylrashkin was having none of Grakkus’ retorts, and hissed as it stomped the ground for show. “ _Falsus!_ The byalfkelk _stole_ my _HORN!!!_ ” The beast the turned his head, displaying for all to see a broken horn on his crown, towards the back and raggedly cut. The vylrashkin regarded them again as he continued, “As for the dragon-pup, she not only tried to spirit the thief away, but _dared_ to sic a flutter of alfkalen on me and my kin!”

Grakkus merely sniggered at the last claim—the earthen brute making an outraged snort in response—before he made to comment.

“That is all?  A lost opportunity for revenge and an “attack” from some alfkalens? Really, comrade, this is pitiful.”

The vylrashkin roared, his sharp teeth flashing in the light and making both Elsa and the byalfkelk flinch.

“I WILL _NOT_ BE DEMEANED BY A _DRACO GELU_.” The beast bellowed furiously, brown eyes all but alit with fury. “I have been wronged, and justly seek retribution! My kin support me in this!”

Grakkus chuckled scornfully. “Truly? Then where are your kin now, hmm?”

The vylrashkin hesitated, eyes narrowing as he grimaced. Grakkus smirked, but before he could get another word in, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. While the two dragons and the byalfkelk struggled to maintain their footing, the earthen brute smiled. The earth began to heave and groan, and this activity only worsened, causing even Grakkus to nearly fall. But he managed to stand, and in spite of his own vindictiveness, allowed the pup and the foal to lean on him for balance.

In a thunderous roar, four vylrashkins burst from the ground all around them. Two clawed past the stones behind, while one emerged on either side of them. Once the earth-borne beasts had pulled themselves out, they shook the dirt and rock from their rugged, spiky hides and snarled at their encircled rival. The slighted individual Grakkus had been verbally dueling with gave the trio a malicious smile as he took an arrogant step forward.

“What was that you said before, _draco_?” He inquired quite haughtily. “Did you not ask where my kin were?” The beast then chuckled mockingly, his comrades joining in.

Elsa bit her lip as her brow furrowed. Sure, Grakkus wasn’t the nicest dragon in their herd, but these vylrashkins were just being bullies now. This made the young pup angry, and she didn’t realize she’d begun to fist her hands in Grakkus’ fur till said dragon lifted his leg away. Elsa meekly glanced up at the older beast, but while he did not look at her and focused instead on their adversaries, his mouth was quirked in a twinge of annoyance. She timidly inched away from his leg, but remained close by, as the brutes slowly closing in around them had her anxious. But just as the beasts were nearly upon them, they stopped in their tracks. As Elsa frowned, wondering why the vylrashkins were suddenly holding off, she looked up at Grakkus to see…

A wickedly smug grin.

In a flash of sheer cold and a roar, the four vylrashkins who’d emerged from the earth found themselves suddenly upon their backs. Each one of them, shocked and infuriated, had two dragons apiece holding them down, snapping sabers near their exposed jugulars in a threat to stay still. Elsa recognized each and every one of the dragons, most of them youths of Birger’s age, and some regular attenders of the Hunts. Though while the young pup did not see her brother, the familiar and comforting din of large paws behind her made her turn and smile in relief.

Byrohk proudly strode forward, head high and back, chin tipped down slightly—this posture accentuated both the musculature of his form and the size and grandeur of his antlers. He made his way past the formerly ambushed trio, and while he walked on the side where Elsa stood, he gave no indication of noticing her presence. Though she pursed her lips, Elsa merely ducked her head as Byrohk passed. Father or no, he was her _tsar_ first, and in the face of rivals it would not do for her to behave too pup-like. It would dishonor their herd, and put Elsa in a worse standing with her papa than she already held.

Once Byrohk stood before the one vylrashkin who remained standing, he halted, and Elsa could only guess if he was narrowing his eyes at the beast.

“I know you…” The _tsar_ grumbled, and Elsa could all but hear the scowl in his voice. “You are Kaltheus, are you not?”

The vylrashkin growled, and the blonde could see him shuffle nervously. “I am Kaltheus, yes…B-Byrohk’K-K-Kahless.”

The pinned vylrashkins’ hissed at their brother’s deferential use of the dragon’s full name (and probably his stuttering too), but the growls of the dragons pinning them quickly silenced them.

Byrohk ignored the other four and continued. “Then, Kaltheus, answer me this. Why are you and your kin assaulting one of my own in such one-sided odds? Such conduct is disgraceful.”

While Kaltheus’ head fell, he grinded his teeth in frustration. “…he was denying me due justice and would not relent. My kin were already on their way, and we were not with the intent of ambushing your warrior.”

Elsa heard Byrohk snarl, and she gulped…despite not being the recipient of it.

“A paltry excuse, Kaltheus.  Circumstances do not make a good defense, and even if they were, you all still intended to make use of the situation, and worse yet…threatened a pup of my herd.”

Said pup pursed her lips as she found herself conflicted. Sure, Byrohk had just acknowledged her as of his herd…but not his family. It was subtle, but there was a difference; one Elsa all too acutely felt.

Kaltheus physically wilted, even as his expression remained somewhat defiant. “She stole my prey away from me! Dared to send alfkalens after me! That blasted little foal still has yet to pay for his theft of my horn!”

Byrohk roared and snapped at Kaltheus, the earthen beast shying away. “Do not use your personal slight to validate this! You think yourself just, don’t you?! Relentlessly pursuing and antagonizing a pair of mere children as you have!”

The patriarch paused to growl, holding out a paw and twitching the middle two digits. At the signal, the dragons who’d had the four vylrashkins pinned backed off, retreating to stand behind their tsar. The once restrained beasts immediately rose to their feet, only to flee into their tunnels. Kaltheus gaped at the spineless display…though, truly, Elsa thought he was only upset because now he was all alone. Where once he had the advantage, now he had nothing.

The tide had very much been turned.

Byrohk stepped closer to the beast with a growl steadily growing in his chest, and Kaltheus backpedaled fearfully, now outright wincing. “Wait, p-please!”

The frost dragon’s growl spiked. “Warriors. Do. _Not. BEG!!!_ ”

Byrohk lunged forward, claws out and maw open in a vicious roar. He pinned the beast against the snow, pushing his head back with a paw to expose his neck. Kaltheus screamed and thrashed beneath him, struggling to try and escape. But while Byrohk was equal in strength, he had the positional advantage. The frost dragon growled as he bared his teeth, sabers all but glinting in the sun. The vylrashkin gave up and scrunched its eyes shut, waiting for the feeling of its life fading away.

“ _No!_ ”

The patriarch hesitated, his eyes, the pupils of which had diminished to slits, dilated as his rage dissolved. Byrohk gave a soft hiss to Kaltheus, a warning that he was not safe, before he tilted his head in Elsa’s direction.

“What is the meaning of this, Elsa?! Kaltheus must be punished!”

Elsa just shook her head, her fists clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles were white. She now stood in the center of the clearing, just behind Byrohk and next to his rear-most paw. The young pup pursed her lips and shook her head again, harder this time.

“No…” She took a deep breath and looked up at Byrohk. “No, papa!”

The other dragons gasped, Grakkus snarled, but Byrohk merely frowned. The informal moniker used before a rival, but Elsa ignored their reactions and continued.

“Please don’t kill him! He was just upset, and the other vylrashes were encouraging him! Let him go, please!”

Byrohk scowled now, but Elsa knew why. She shook her head hard as she pouted fiercely and corrected herself.

“Let him go, _now!_ ”

The forceful tone went unhindered by her awfully young voice and remained strong. The patriarch’s eyes widened ever so slightly, his maw relaxed, and his ears twitched back. It was a seemingly unassuming expression…if one did not know Byrohk’Kahless. But Elsa knew him, and hope rose in her chest as she recognized the look.

Byrohk was impressed.

The patriarch immediately retreated off the vylrashkin, who as soon as he was free, scrambled away and made straight for one of his kin’s tunnels. The moment his tail disappeared into the hole, all four sealed themselves in a brief rumble. The frost dragons milled around skittishly, their fur standing on end and hackles raised. They were glaring at the ground, and the clearing was tense and quiet as the dragons remained cautious in the case of retaliation. But as many minutes passed, and nothing happened, they all gradually relaxed.

Except for Elsa, that is…

The young pup had spent the anxious wait watching the patriarch. Byrohk had not moved the entire time, staring ahead so that Elsa could not see his face. Dread began to replace the blonde’s triumph at having managed to impress the dragon. Was she wrong? Had she read that look from earlier wrong? But then…no, she _had_ to be right, Elsa had to have been right. Why else would Byrohk have actually _listened to her?!_ Embroiled as she was in her thoughts, the blonde didn’t notice that Grakkus had walked past her until his shadow had completely covered her.

The elder dragon huffed as he glared down at her, causing Elsa to bite her lip and shrink away. Regardless, she watched as he approached Byrohk.

“ _Tsar_ , I must ask…why did you spare Kaltheus?” Grakkus paused, sapphire eyes flicking momentarily to Elsa before he frowned and continued. “By all rights, you should have killed him.”

Elsa bit her lip as she watched them, cradling one hand in the other as she held them to her chest. The young pup was aware of the byalfkelk timidly walking up behind her but paid him no mind at the moment. She had the feeling that Grakkus blamed her, if that look meant anything. He never liked her, and unfortunately took every opportunity to show it. Not when Birger was around, of course; her brother loathed hearing it and would always shut it down. But Birger wasn’t here right now…

Elsa was on her own with Grakkus and her “Father”.

Said father gave a humming growl in response, which only made Grakkus scowl. “ _Tsar_ , why did you do it?”

He sounded considerably more annoyed this time. So, it didn’t surprise Elsa when Byrohk’s next reply was clipped.

“Because Elsa wished me not too, and now Kaltheus will owe me, whether he wants to or not.”

Grakkus was still scowling, though. “What does it matter what the whelp wished? It was within your power and right! What’s a mere favor to your reputation? The vylrashkins might not see it as a failure on their part, but—”

Byrohk growled loudly, and the younger dragon had the decency to flinch. “Finish that sentence, Grakkus…see what happens when you do.”

Grakkus clamped his lips shut, the growl in his throat muffled as a result. He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “With all due respect, _tsar_ , I do not see why you would acquiesce to the whelp’s request. It’s not as if it matters.”

Elsa’s eyes widened and got a little misty. The byalfkelk must’ve seen this, for he stepped closer and laid a fuzzy hand on her shoulder. This was a new jab made by the elder dragon…and the pup couldn’t deny that it hurt. Byrohk hissed and turned fully towards Grakkus, giving Elsa a view of his face. If possible, her eyes widened more when she saw the anger in the elder dragon’s eyes. Anger on her behalf…

“Are you saying that Elsa does not matter, Grakkus?”

She couldn’t help but give a tiny smile of appreciation at the irritation in papa’s voice.

But then Grakkus scoffed, “Why would I think she did?” He then snarled. “She’s not even a dragon.”

Elsa’s face fell, her hands drifting away from her chest as she couldn’t help letting out a soft, hurt, “Hey…”

As quiet as it was, Grakkus seemed to have heard it, as his ears twitched, and he glared over at her. He sniffed derisively, and Elsa shrunk in on herself as he sauntered right up to her. The young pup heard the byalfkelk foal backpedal away quickly and wished she could do the same. But she’d been raised by and with dragons and could not make the steel in her spine bend. Not even as the much larger dragon stood before her…not even if she really wanted to.

“ _Da_ , you heard me, whelp!” He scowled dangerously. “You are _no_ dragon, regardless of what _ser_ Birger may say. There is nothing neither the _ser_ nor you could possibly do to change this!” Grakkus narrowed his eyes at Elsa, who scrunched her shoulders up to her ears at his harsh look.

“You’re no dragon…you are small,”

Elsa flinched.

“Weak,”

She closed her eyes and let her head fall, chin resting on her chest.

“Fang-less!”

What had once been a feeling of dejection suddenly flared bright and hot. Elsa’s eyes snapped open, wide and shocked, as her chest started heaving. Out of nowhere she felt _angry_ , and her fists clenched tight against her chest. As she scowled, a small part of her felt strangely right being angry; but something was off. This wasn’t _her_ anger, and while her scowl shifted to a frown as she tried to determine what was going on, Grakkus had obliviously continued.

“You could never be a dragon!”

This time, anger spiked in Elsa of her own volition, fueled by the foreign rage that had appeared before. Her eyes snapped up and she glared hard at Grakkus. The older dragon gaped at the sudden fire in the pup’s eyes. Elsa lowered her fists to her sides and opened her mouth to speak.

Instead of words, a deafening, enraged roar sounded, startling everyone in the clearing…including Elsa, for no sound had come from her. Before anyone could react, Grakkus was suddenly knocked from his feet as another dragon tackled him. The landing was rough, painful, and jarring; and the warrior scowled up at his assailant. But once he recognized the individual whose snarling maw was awfully close to his face—sabers so close they shaved off a few hairs—Grakkus’ eyes went wide. Meanwhile, Elsa had recovered from her own shock, smiling with relief and adoration at Grakkus’ attacker.

It was her brother; it was Birger.

The young dragon, merely half Grakkus’ own age, had the dragon pinned and could not be angrier than he already was. Both of his paws held the other dragon down, claws extended and merely another ounce of pressure away from piercing Grakkus’ hide. His muscles were shaking, his chest heaving with great breaths, all incurred by the rage boiling in his blood. This showed most, though, in his eyes: Birger’s pupils were contracted so terribly, the slits could barely be made out in his azure irises.

Grakkus had just opened his mouth to say something when Birger snapped at him, fangs dangerously close to flesh.

“ _NET!!!_ NOT ONE WORD, GRAKKUS.” Birger narrowed his eyes viciously at him. “You so much as _open_ your mouth again, and you’ll regret it!”

Grakkus cringed as he tried to make himself seem smaller. He dared a glance to Byrohk, sending the patriarch a pleading look. The elder dragon merely shook his head, raising an eyebrow as he gazed at the pair with a solemn look.

“This is your problem, Grakkus. You insulted his sister, and now you are being duly reprimanded.”

The warrior had just begun to glare at his _tsar_ in irritation when Birger snapped again. “ _NE SMEY,_ GRAKKUS. You know he’s right! Now do it…”

Grakkus eyed him warily, but also in confusion. “I…I-I don’t—”

Birger growled, cutting him off, “APOLOGIZE!!!” He lessened his pressure on the older dragon to make it easier for him to look at the young pup. “Apologize to Elsa!”

With his eyes wide and cringing, this was the first time Elsa had ever seen Grakkus look _scared_. A selfish part of her liked it, but she stamped that side down as it made her tummy hurt. Instead, Elsa dug deep and found herself feeling sorry for the older dragon. He was a meanie, sure, but he still saved her and the byalfkelk foal. If it weren’t for Grakkus arriving when he had, the situation could’ve been much worse. Elsa focused on this as the warrior dragon glanced over at her, more fear than guilt evident in his eyes. That was all right, though; Elsa wasn’t expecting him to completely mean it…as much as she wished he would.

“ _Mne zhal…_ p-pup.” He didn’t call her a whelp this time,

Well, at least there was _some_ improvement, then.

Elsa made herself smile, as hard as it turned out to be, and gave a stiff, choppy nod. While Birger frowned at her, rage slipping away in face of concern as his eyes dilated back to normal, Byrohk gave a satisfied huff.

“ _Khoroshiy_.” The patriarch muttered from where he stood. “Now that this debacle is over…comrades!”

The dragons that had been respectfully remaining quiet till now snapped to attention. Byrohk nodded to the lot of them.

“Back to the nests, back to the herd.”

The youths nodded dutifully before they all marched away. Birger finally backed off from Grakkus, who quickly jumped to his feet and made to follow the others back to the nests.

“Grakkus.”

Elsa watched as the warrior hesitated, before turning to look back, meeting his patriarch’s eyes. Byrohk stared back intensely.

“ _Ne vedut sebya kak takim obrazom yeshche raz_.”

Elsa couldn’t help the timid smile that came at the elder dragon’s words. _Do not behave in this way again._ She noticed that her brother was not only smiling as way, but even chuckled a bit. This earned him a side-eyed glare from Grakkus before the dragon left. Just as Birger made his way to Elsa—the pup getting ready to climb up his fur, so they could both leave—they were halted as Byrohk spoke again.

“Birger…hold.” He slowly approached them, “There is still one more matter to be dealt with.”

Birger frowned, but Elsa instantly understood. She looked around, trying to spot the byalfkelk foal, desperately hoping he hadn’t fled. She was so relieved to spot him hiding among the bushes at the fringe of the clearing. Byrohk followed her line of sight and nodded to the small beast.

“Youngling…come.”

The foal jumped, but quickly cantered up to them, wringing his furry hands as he did. While Byrohk did not smile, his face was soft as he regarded the small beast.

“Byalfkelk…firstly, what is your name?”

Elsa, from where she stood clinging to Birger’s furry leg, perked up as her curiosity got a hold of her. She’d enjoy having an actual name to call him other than “foal” or by his species.

The young beast cleared his throat before he spoke. “M-my uh, my name i-i-is Allanor, _ser_ dragon.”

Byrohk gave an amused smirked. “That is a strong name, Allanor.”

Allanor dared to grin, and Elsa beamed as she muttered his name, getting used to it. But just as soon as the moment was amiable, Byrohk’s smirk faded.

“Allanor…you need to be disciplined as well.” He raised an eyebrow. “You realize this, don’t you?”

Both younglings lost their smiles as well, and Elsa half-buried her face in Birger’s fur. She’d almost forgotten… Allanor gave a shuddering sigh before he bravely met Byrohk’s eyes.

“A-aye, _ser_ , I do. It…i-it was my f-f-fault, after all. I stole Kaltheus’ horn, and so he and his chased me, and…”

A sob forced him to stop, and Elsa’s heart hurt as she was forced to watch. She tried to step forward, but Birger gently kept his leg in front of her. When she looked up at him, he merely smiled gently and shook his head. _This is his trial to face, sweetheart._ Elsa pursed her lips as she looked back at Allanor and gripped her brother’s fur harder.

Byrohk sighed. “It was a foolish act, Allanor, and one that could have easily gotten you killed were it not for this young pup’s intervention.” He paused to glance at Elsa, and noticing her slight glare, quickly added, “With assistance from the alfkalens, of course.”

Allanor gulped, then nodded. “Aye…I was stupid. I listened to my stupid brother, I… I’m sorry, _ser_.”

Byrohk hummed thoughtfully. “Sadly, a mere apology cannot suffice. You will need to do more…something to redeem yourself.”

Elsa bit her lip as she thought, trying hard to think of something to help the foal out. After all, papa had already allowed enough when he listened to her and let Kaltheus go. He could only be so merciful; Byrohk did not like favoritism. There had to be something that Allanor could do to make up for his mess up…but what? Just when Elsa thought she couldn’t come up with anything, she felt Birger nudge her. She looked up to see her brother smirk and bob an eyebrow at her before he raised his gaze to Byrohk.

“ _Otets_ , I have an idea.”

Byrohk raised an eyebrow at his son. “ _Da?_ And what would that be, exactly?”

Birger glanced down at Allanor, whom stared back nervously. Elsa watched as her brother winked at the byalfkelk before he returned his gaze to the patriarch.

“What if he swore himself to Elsa as a _krepostnoy_ to make up for his transgression? That way he’d live, be with someone he knows, and yet still be redeeming his mistake.”

The eyes of both byalfkelk foal and dragon pup widened at Birger’s pitch. A small smile came to the latter’s face. Personally, Elsa saw no issue with this plan; not only did it spare Allanor, but it gave her a potential friend…if he wanted to be, of course. This line of thought caused Elsa’s smile to fall as she considered that the young beast had little choice in the matter. What if he was bitter about it? What if it turned out he didn’t like her? The young pup glanced over at the byalfkelk, biting her lip and holding her hands against her chest as she watched his expression.

The young beast stared for a moment, fuzzy brow furrowed and lips slightly downturned at the corners. But his eyes didn’t _seem_ mad, or bitter, or even annoyed. Actually…Elsa couldn’t deduce just what was in his eyes. They were glassy and unreadable, and the blonde wasn’t sure if she was disturbed or impressed. Usually she could tell what someone was thinking or feeling, especially by their eyes. But Allanor defied this somehow, and she was intrigued. Finally, the byalfkelk sighed and nodded, shuffling his four hooves in an equine show of nervousness as he looked between the two larger dragons.

“I, th-that sounds, um…” He cleared his throat and shook his head before he looked to Byrohk and continued. “If you a-approve, _ser_ dragon, then I accept this sentence.”

Byrohk stared at Allanor for a few moments, before glancing at Elsa. Now, _his_ eyes she could read: he was pondering his son’s idea, weighing the positives and negatives of accepting versus declining. When he narrowed his eyes, she inhaled sharply—was he going to say no? If he did, what would happen to Allanor?! Elsa kinda liked the young byalfkelk, she didn’t want him to get hurt! Especially since this whole thing wasn’t his fault, not entirely anyway. It was his meanie brother who made him do it, after all. The young pup was just about to voice this and had opened her mouth to do so when Byrohk glanced at Birger and spoke first.

“ _Da_ , I approve of your idea, _syna_.”

Both younglings let out sighs of relief, and even Birger seemed to relax.

The patriarch gave Allanor an appraising stare before he spoke again. “From this day forth, you shall accompany Elsa and do what you must to keep her content and well. What that entails is wholly up to the pup, but regardless, it shall be your duty until I deem your transgression absolved. Is that understood, foal?”

Allanor nodded fervently, puffing out his chest in an attempt at a show of manliness that was lost due to his youth. While Elsa smothered a giggle with her paw, Birger made no such attempt, outright chortling at the byalfkelk’s vain effort. Byrohk did not seem as amused, however, as he shot them an unamused glare—one eyebrow raised incredulously—before looking back to the young foal.

“Then it is official—while only by technicality, you are a part of my herd, Allanor. Now come, all of you; we are late for breakfast, and I don’t want to test the pups’ patience with it.”

Elsa giggled freely this time, for she knew just how true it was. The other pups were voracious when it came to meals, practically wrestling each other as they ate. Sometimes she only ever managed to eat because Birger would intervene, intimidating the pups into backing off long enough for him to take a portion for his little sister, only for them to swarm the food the moment he looked away. But then, the young pup liked it better that way—eating alone with her brother was much more comforting and enjoyable than the free-for-all the other pups partook in.

Without waiting a moment longer, Byrohk strode out of the clearing, making his way where the others had gone, back to where the herd was nested. Though the patriarch didn’t spare a glance to any of the other three, it was not out of malice. Rather, the proud beast simply did not bother. Elsa knew this, and she understood, merely smiling at his fuzzy white end as he walked past the trees. The moment Byrohk was gone, and his steps were merely distant rumblings, the young pup quickly turned to Birger and scampered up his furry leg. She settled herself in the soft, extremely fluffy teal mane that pooled between his shoulder blades. Elsa hesitated for only a moment before she crawled to his shoulder and peaked over at the byalfkelk.

“Hey! Allanor! Wanna come up?”

Both the byalfkelk foal and her brother balked at her, the latter exclaiming in shock; “Whoa, wait what?!”

Elsa pouted at him. “You heard me, Birger! Allan ran all the way with me, he’s gotta be tired too!”

Birger glared at her, raising his eyebrows incredulously. “ _Da_ , but he’s got _HOOVES_. Hooves _hurt_ when they step on flesh, Elsa!”

The blonde pup crossed her arms and glowered at her brother. “Tell him to be careful, then! It’s not like he’s gonna step really hard or anything, and he’s just a foal! He’s probably not all that heavy!”

The dragon narrowed his eyes, brows lowering like storm clouds above them. “I’m sure he’s heavy enough, and I’m also sure he has enough stamina he can walk on his own. It’s not that far.”

“We had to run really hard, Birger! Please just let him up. Stop being a big puppy about it!”

Now he all but looked down his big fluffy nose at her. “I am _not being a PUPPY_. You’re being a puppy!”

A timid voice cut through their sibling squabble. “May I say something?”

Both dragons swung to face them as they shouted in unison: “ _Kakaya?!_ ”

Allanor backed up a step but gulped as he stood strong. “I-I was uh, I was just going to say that I’m f-f-fine with um, with w-walking. I don’t want to overstep my place.”

Elsa frowned as she peered down at the byalfkelk where he sulked, hands grasped behind his back and ducking his head. Though, with her vantage and how he was leaning, the young pup could now see little horn nubs on Allanor’s head, just above and behind his pointed ears. Elsa smiled ever so slightly, for some reason the discovery made the young foal cute. But then her eyes flicked down to his shy, anxious expression, and her smiled faded as she bit her lip.

Elsa shook her head, “You weren’t!”

Just as Birger scoffed, “ _Da_ , good plan.”

Birger had the good mind to stiffen, only to look back and send Elsa an apologetic, sheepish smile. She merely glared at him before looking back down at Allanor.

“If you really wanna, then okay. It’s just over this way, come on!”

Neither males daring to speak up, the elder dragon began marching his way where all the others had gone, Allanor trotting up to keep pace before settling in step alongside them. As the trio meandered peacefully through the forest, Elsa smiled and sighed, content as always when riding on the older dragon’s back. The teal mane between his shoulders was the second softest spot on Birger, rivaled only by the one along his chest. Some of the pup’s earliest memories consisted simply of her cuddled there, safe and cold, and it took all of Elsa’s willpower not to nap where she sat now. In fact, she even nodded off a couple of times, but shook her head vigorously and tried to focus instead.

It helped her to focus when Elsa heard a soft grunt of effort from below. She carefully crawled to her brother’s shoulder where she looked down, only to see Allanor had fallen just a tad behind. The snow was getting steadily deeper, and with his much shorter legs compared to Birger’s, it was also getting harder for the byalfkelk to push through. Elsa frowned, wishing she could simply tell Allanor to climb up, but knowing that both males would merely make it difficult as they’d done earlier. But then she smiled as an idea came to her, and the pup glanced over at the back of her brother’s head.

_Psst, Birger._

He continued looking forward, but his ears twitched, and Elsa knew he was listening.

_Do ya think you could drag your feet in the snow a little? Allanor’s having a hard time keeping up in the snow. He’s gettin’ kinda behind, right now._

Elsa watched with a grin as the older dragon glanced back at the foal, brow furrowing as he noticed she was right. After he directed his gaze back forward, Birger discretely meandered just right so that he walked in front of Allanor; who by this point, had gotten far enough behind to allow it. Birger then made sure to drag his feet so as to make trenches through the snow, all but revealing the naked dirt beneath. Elsa turned around, still sitting on her brother’s back, as she looked to see how Allanor was faring now. The young foal was walking in one of the trenches, it being wide enough he could do so without his elbows even brushing the walls of snow.

Elsa smiled brightly before she turned around and laid down, getting comfortable as she curled on and nuzzled Birger’s mane.

 _Thank you,_ brata.

As the young pup’s eyes drifted shut, the elder dragon’s lumbering gait providing a soothing rocking as the softness and coolness of her brother’s mane worked their magic, Birger glanced back to look at her. Love and pride swelled in the beast’s heart as he smiled gently. The dragon just couldn’t get enough of how precious his wee sister was. Still smiling, he turned his head forward as he whispered softly through their bond:

 _You’re quite welcome,_ sestra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, the next update will take a while. I've only recently been able to get over the writer's block that's been keeping the next chapter from progressing, but I'm also a very busy person. Between work, life, and school, I've got a lot to do; but I'm tired of leaving this undone, with Elsa not having met Anna yet. I've got a lot of sweet stuff planned that I know the EA fandom will like, and I'm looking forward to your guys' reactions.
> 
> Kudo, comment, bookmark, share...the next chapter WILL come, and you guys will love it, I swear it.


	5. Rise And Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter suffered with a long hiatus because I was stuck on writer's block for a long while. You see, I'm very good at imagining scenes; I can see visuals in my mind as clearly, fluidly, and directed as one can watch something on their TV. As such, I can very easily imagine this story as a full-length animated picture. THAT is why I got stuck; what I saw in my mind was nearly impossible to translate into words. The "Son of Man" montage was what got me, because again, I could just see it so clearly, I got frustrated with myself and lost motivation. I spent some time getting over that, updated Birger's main fic with a few new chapters to get back into the groove, and finally returned to this story.  
> I am proud of this story as it's gone so far, but I may be most proud of this chapter so far. It came out rather well, especially the latter part. Since I'm using the Tarzan movie as a rough outline—with plenty of liberties, hehehehe—I'm sure you can all guess what "Retribution" in the title refers to. I very much hope the wait has been worth it for those who've been waiting since the third chapter was posted.  
> Thank you, all of you, for being patient with me.

It hadn’t been long till the trio had arrived back at the pine tree, breakfast having had waited for them beneath its boughs, long since placed there by Birger. Though, Allanor was dismayed to find it was a walrus carcass; but Elsa was elated. She’d hugged her brother and told him how proud she was, knowing getting such a fat but feisty beast was a feat among the youths. Luckily for the byalfkelk, he found the needles of the pine to be delicious, and they’d all spent a pleasant morning getting acquainted.

Allanor was very shy at first, mostly apprehensive about Birger more than likely—Elsa hadn’t missed his constantly glancing at the older dragon’s sabers. But the young byalfkelk quickly warmed up to them, his shoulders no longer brushing his jawline, his hooves no longer twitching. Elsa found she quite liked Allanor; he was shy and quiet, sure, but he seemed determined and daring, if his theft of a vylrashkin horn meant anything. The young pup could tell, as well as feel, that Birger was beginning to like Allanor as well (much to her relief).

At one point during breakfast, young Olfken had joined his friends, and was surprised to find the byalfkelk. But even he seemed to really take to Allanor, and the cheerful dragon pup quickly and excitedly introduced himself and offered his friendship. This was also much to Elsa’s joy, as Olfken was one of the few pups her age she could confidently call a friend; the fellow dragon-pup being her only same-sized playmate growing up.

Compared to the morning of the day, the rest of it was rather uneventful.

The only break in the monotony was when Colphin surprised Elsa with a visit. She was beyond comforted to see him in one piece, and was elated to hear that the other alfkalens pulled off their escapade with little to no injuries. They were all a bit shaken up from the ordeal, and some had come out with scratches and several bruises; but then, alfkalens can heal almost anything with their sun magic.

Luckily, none of them had been killed, as that was the one ailment alfkalens could not cure. Elsa had given Colphin a quick hug-and-nuzzle while Allanor bid the alfkalen thanks and farewell, before the little lizard left; the pair watching as he adorably fluttered away with his one wing. But all throughout the day, as much as she wanted to, Elsa could not forget Grakkus’ words from that morning. His vehement denouncing of her draconity, how she was weak, nothing…

It got to the point that, by nightfall, the young pup had retreated to a frozen pond nearby to be alone. The spot was a gentle and serene one; tall, proud pines that bowed to none kindly parting around the frosted, smooth, glassy surface. A blanket of snow covered the land, all colored with midnight blues that were silvered by the moon’s light.

Elsa knelt by its edge, where the ice met the ground, and stared at her reflection. For the first time, she carefully examined her face, looked closely at it and even raised a tentative hand to feel it. Her skin was soft, but not from fur; all of that was on her head, in a white-gold color that matched _no one_. The pup even had to wear a coat of another beast’s fur, for crying out loud. She had no muzzle, her nose was small, and she had no sabers. In fact, it seemed like half the teeth in her mouth were barely sharp at all. Shakily, Elsa looked at her hands themselves, and she pursed her lips (which were also different) as she flexed her fingers. They were nothing like Birger’s paws…her claws could barely be called so, and no pads protected her palms.

Elsa began to breathe heavily, and she felt tears at her eyes. Most times she’d try to be strong, to not let herself cry; but then she heard it in her head again: _“You are not a dragon!”_

A soft whimper echoed in the midnight as Elsa lifted her legs to rest her arms on her knees, her face pressed to the sleeves of her fur coat as she cried. It didn’t make any sense…she _felt_ like a dragon, Birger treated and raised her as one, Olfken played with her like one…why were they the only ones? Were they wrong, was she really not a dragon? If a lot of people said the same thing, didn’t that mean it was true? Was there really something wrong with her, then?

Elsa glanced up from her sleeves, and hiccupped as she did so, before she looked again at her reflection in the ice. The sight of a sniffling whelp greeted her, and something began to burn in her chest. The young pup glared at her reflection, and clenched her fists tightly as they began to emit a faint blue glow. Elsa was angry, but at who, she wasn’t entirely sure; herself, the other dragons, her brother, maybe all of them…

It didn’t matter, though; all that mattered was that she felt _angry_.

Elsa stood and started to blast at the icy layer of the pond with her magic, causing spikes and jagged formations to erupt on the cold surface. She grunted and growled as she did so as she vented her anger, trying to get it all out because the pup didn’t like how it felt. Elsa didn’t want to feel angry, to feel like an outcast, to feel like none of the other dragons accepted her as their own save for two.

She didn’t want _any_ of it!

With a distressed yell, the pup threw a two-handed blast at the ice. However, made erratic by her emotions, the burst refracted off of the sharp, uneven surfaced she’d inadvertently created, and came back at her. Elsa yelped as she fell back on her rear, cringing at the sharp fractals that had materialized on her sensitive skin. Luckily, the blast had merely grazed her left temple, and hadn’t directly struck herself. She gulped as she crawled forward to the ice again, and nervously peered at her reflection. Elsa’s eyes widened at what she saw.

Blurred as it was by both the twilight and the rime on the surface, the ice made the hoarfrost on her temple almost resemble a frost dragon antler. Even if it was just in a slight way, suddenly…Elsa looked more like a dragon.

A naïve hope arose in her chest as she frantically began to run her hands through her hair, frosting it as well as making a matching antler on the right side. She didn’t stop there, as she scooped up handful of snow and packed into her hair as well. Just to be safe, she caked snow all along her fur coat, powdering as much as she could. The cold didn’t bother her in the slightest, her ice magic providing a measured immunity to it. Finally, when she was done, Elsa looked again at her reflection. Her brow furrowed as she squinted at it, a little confused.

It looked… _exactly_ like a frost dragon…but wait, how—

“Elsa.”

The young pup whirled around so fast, some of the snow in her hair flew out and returned to the ground in a splatter.

It was Birger—he sat just behind her and watched her with a solemn expression. Elsa gulped nervously as she fidgeted in place, suddenly and acutely aware of how she looked. She waited to be chided or given a lecture, but all her brother did was sigh and give her a bemused smirk.

“What are you doing, Elsa?” He inquired.

Elsa pursed her lips and sighed. “I-I was…I w-was just trying to, um…”

As she drifted off, Birger chuckled once more. “You’re starting to sound like Allanor. Come now, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Elsa frowned and fought back a sniffle. “I…I was trying to make myself look more like you…”

The older dragon’s smirk immediately faded as he frowned. “Elsa, no, why would you do that? You look just fine, come here.”

He reached forward with a paw and pulled her closer, then began to brush off the snow and frost with the rough pads on the bottom. Elsa scowled and struggled against him.

“Stop! Birger, quit it!”

“You’re covered in snow, I have to wipe it off.”

“No! Please, it’s supposed to—I, I wanted to—”

“What?” Birger asked as he paused his ministrations. “What did you want to do?”

“I wanted the others to think I was a dragon, okay!”

Birger froze as he gaped wide-eyed at his little sister. She’d begun to cry, and where at first she’d resisted him, now Elsa clung to his paw. The young pup buried her face in his fur, trying to hide her tears from her big brother. But he could feel them, both in his fur and his heart. Said heart grew heavy, as well, as Birger lowered his head and gave the back of Elsa’s a gentle nuzzle. He hummed gently as he tried to soothe her, and while she slowly stopped crying, Elsa was still sad.

Now that she’d at least stilled, Birger spoke. “But Elsa, you are a dragon.”

Elsa scowled and shook her head. “No! No I’m not…”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because Grakkus and Papa say so!”

Birger scrunched his brow in confusion at that. “When has sire ever said you weren’t a dragon?”

Elsa glared up at him. “When has he ever said I was?”

When her brother said nothing, at a loss for words, she continued. “Papa may have never said the same things as Grakkus, but he’s never defended me being a dragon…only me being your sister. There’s a difference, I know it… Besides, we don’t look alike…”

Birger sighed and shook his head. There had to be a way for him to reassure Elsa otherwise, and he struggled to think of a way. He frowned in thought for a while, still keeping his fluffy nose close to her. Finally, his eyes lit up and ears perked forward as he smiled, then looked back down to his sister.

“We don’t look alike, hmm?” He questioned slyly. “If that’s true then how come…” He used a single digit from the paw Elsa wasn’t hugging to carefully make her look at him. “We both have two eyes?”

The young pup pursed her lips, but locked her eyes on his anyway, and actually seemed to calm a little. Birger smiled gently as he brushed his big furry nose against her small one, which made her giggle.

“One nose, too.”

Birger then brushed Elsa’s ears with his fluffy muzzle, causing Elsa to giggle even more. He now had a wide smile, chuckling softly as well.

“Would you look at that, we even have two ears each.”

The older dragon drew his head back just a little, frowning as he thought more. “Let’s see, what else…”

Elsa frowned as she thought as well, only to beam excitedly a moment later as an idea came to her. She grabbed one of her brother’s paws—a fluffy, prehensile, four-digit mitt with rough pads on the bottom—and placed one of her hands against it.

“Two forepaws!” She exclaimed, smiling up at him.

Birger smiled back down, reaching his head back down to nuzzle her again. “ _Da_ , two forepaws…”

Elsa beamed up at him before looking back to her paw on his. Without meaning to, she began to take in the differences, and her smile faltered. Hers had no fur, the claws (if you could call hers that) weren’t teal, and no pads… Before she could stop it, a hiccup arose from Elsa, and she immediately shut her eyes and shook her head as she tried to fight off the wave of sadness that had hit her. Birger’s smile faded as well, and he sighed. He needed one more thing, something stronger that, when all else failed, his little sister could cling to. The dragon’s eyes all but sparkled when something came to him, and he gently nudged Elsa’s face.

“Elsa, if you would, I want to show you something.”

She sniffled, but didn’t resist as he pulled her closer to him, to the scruffy teal at his chest. Elsa immediately, almost instinctively, leaned into him and snuggled there. Once she’d settled comfortably, Birger gently used a digit of his left paw to nudge one of Elsa’s hands to her chest.

“Tell me, little one,” He began softly. “What do you feel?”

Elsa closed her eyes, focusing on where her brother had her place her hand. It didn’t take long for her to discover the familiar cadence of her heartbeat.

“My heart.” She stated matter-of-factly, not quite understanding where Birger was going with this.

Then, the older dragon pulled her closer to his own chest, and used his left paw to carefully direct her head against it.

“Now…what do you _hear?_ ”

Elsa closed her eyes as she listened, then smiled and snuggled closer to him as she recognized the sound of Birger’s heartbeat. It was a sound she knew better than her own heart’s rhythm, as it had often lulled her to sleep all her life up to present. With a bright smile, the young pup lifted her head away and glanced up at her brother.

“ _Your_ heart!”

Birger smiled and nodded. “Precisely. Deep down, Elsa, we are one and the same. We’re both dragons, even if we don’t look exactly alike.” He closed his eyes as he nuzzled his nose to the top of her head, which made Elsa giggle. “Grakkus and _otets_ , they don’t see it…they don’t understand.”

Elsa took a moment to enjoy the snuggly moment, eyes closed as she savored the softness of her brother’s fur. He was right, as he typically was; the surface was only part of the story, after all. She thought she was a dragon, felt like one, had the same magic and everything—just because she didn’t look perfectly like one didn’t make her less of a frost dragon. As the young pup thought about what Birger said about Grakkus and Byrohk not understanding, her eyes opened as she got an idea.

Elsa leaned back and met Birger’s eyes. “Then I’ll make them understand!”

Birger raised an eyebrow at her, before both shot up into his mane and eyes widened as the young pup scurried up on all fours. She climbed until she perched on his scruffy shoulder where the teal of his mane cascaded off of it. Still situated on all fours, Elsa roughly adopted a draconic posture as she beamed at Birger.

“I’ll be the best frost dragon ever!”

Birger couldn’t have smiled wider if he could as he playfully rolled his shoulder. “Hahaha! But of course!”

Then he narrowed his eyes at her, and the pup frowned and tilted her head.

“W-what?” She questioned tentatively.

The older dragon’s previously proud smile grew ornery scarily fast. “If you’re going to be the best, I’ll need to step up my rearing of you…”

Elsa swallowed the fear that arose at her brother’s expression, hardened her own as well as her resolve, and nodded.

 

* * *

 

For the next few years, the frosted siblings pushed themselves to their limits. Birger truly did put more effort into how he raised his little sister—not that he hadn’t before, of course, but they were both trying to prove a point now. He emphasized how to move, to run, to hunt, and even to fight. While it was hard, because Elsa couldn’t move quite the same as he could, it became increasingly clear to both that the young pup _couldn’t_ do it the same. But despite what their onlookers thought, that wasn’t that big of an issue.

No, that was actually a good thing.

Birger continually presented Elsa problems, and instead of telling her how to solve them, he challenged her to figure it out. While it was always with the requirement of moving as much like a dragon as possible, what she specifically did was up to her. How would she chase her prey, how would she bring it down and kill it? How would she quickly traverse the environment without exhausting herself?

Olfken lent a paw whenever he could, offering his own advice as well as providing Elsa a sparring partner. They’d already tussled playfully several times before, but now it was a wee bit more serious. Where they never used to try and win in their play-duels, now, they tried hard. Birger would watch and coach, giving his sister pointers whilst also throwing some tips Olfken’s way—more due to his position as eldest pup of the Patriarch than anything. Olfken proved somewhat challenging for Elsa to beat, winning more often than not.

As a part of her dragon training, Elsa wandered off on her own even more than before. She practiced running on all fours as well as on two, and even experimented with switching mid-run. If ever she found a sturdy tree, Elsa jumped at the chance to climb it. Though, her initial attempts typically resulted in falling flat on her back in the snow. It also resulted in scraped hands and arms, as well as her feet and knees. It occurred to Elsa that she wasn’t properly equipped for climbing…

Thus she decided to devise a means of improving her assets, and asked Birger if he could find a big cat whose pelt she could use. Before too long, he presented her with the corpse of a snow leopard; and after they took a moment to pay homage to the beast, went to work. They had used the pelts of animals to make protective outerwear for Elsa before; this time, however, it was with the purpose of having other practical uses. Such as fashioning the paws into clawed gloves, allowing Elsa to use them as if they were her own.

As the years passed, and moons went by, Birger found himself with the privilege of watching his sister grow into a mighty dragon indeed.

Elsa grew taller, and while Birger remained far above her and Olfken began to surpass her, it was a respectable height that she reached. Years of tussling with Olfken (and occasionally a poor Allanor), running through the frozen lands, and climbing every tree she could, molded the young girl’s body into a powerful force. Elsa became skilled and strong enough, even the mountains of the land their herd called home could not stop her, finding themselves conquered by even her. Elsa’s hair also grew, a long and mighty mane of snowy gold that incited small bouts of envy in the frost dragons who found the color pleasant.

Elsa’s magic grew stronger as well, the magical seed Birger accidentally planted all those years ago having taken root and become mighty and stout with time and practice. The young girl found herself able to do anything she could imagine with the ice magic that thrummed within her strong form. She could make climbing easier, she could make her claws longer and sharper, she could freeze prey and opponent alike solid—she could make icy, decorative antlers on her cowl that matched those of a frost dragon. She could even make icy weapons, sometimes grafted to sturdy sticks for support, that made hunting all the easier for her.

But there was one thing Elsa found she could do with her magic, that shocked every dragon in their herd.

Elsa learned she could make slides of ice, allowing herself to fly across the land faster than any dragon had ever ran before. This led the young dragon to practice athletics that only her daring mind could imagine, performing death-defying jumps, dives, runs, and whatever else she desired with ease. With the strength she now wielded in both magic and body, it seemed there was little that Elsa was not capable of, not now at least. Even hunting came naturally to her in time, stealth and lethality proving to not be beyond her, and many new young pups found themselves feasting on kills Elsa had brought back herself.

But even with all of these achievements, Elsa’s journey had only just begun…

 

* * *

 

Birger laid sprawled comfortably on his belly in the snow, a large icicle held fast in his forepaws as he gnawed on it. The only thing he loved eating more than meat was ice, though the latter had the bonus of empowering his magic. Granted, Birger didn’t think it was quite as tasty as meat, but at the very least it was amusing to chew. Though, it was not as if he _needed_ to chew ice anymore; that was typically meant for youths whose magic had yet to fully form. Birger’s magic had long since grown mighty, and his physique had done so as well.

It had now been many winters since the one during which he’d found, rescued, and adopted his sister; 27 to be precise, and he was immensely proud of the strong dragon she’d grown to be in that time. Birger himself had matured into a fearsome warrior, and easily one of the herd’s mightiest—the day he’d faced the Nightmare alone as an adolescent pup had long since become legend in the herd. Youths and pups alike looked up to him, and some of the Elders hoped his newfound strength in his older years meant he would be the one to finally end the Nightmare that had been plaguing their kind for generations.

Although Birger would be more than happy to end the Nightmare that killed his first sister all those years ago, he would never pursue the monstrosity itself. Not now, not when he had a new sister who needed him. Though Elsa had grown strong and independent herself, the older dragon refused to take such a chance.

An ear twitched as Birger caught the faint sound of someone trying to sneak up on him.

_Speak of the devil…_

The moment he heard the intake of air, he paused his chewing.

“Do not even try it, little one.”

Right behind his head stood Elsa, arms held high, eyes wide…and mouth agape and breath held as she’d been prepared to roar in his ear and surprise him. With an indignant frown that was mostly covered by her fur cowl, Elsa expelled the air she’d prepared for a roar as a loud raspberry instead. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, Elsa leaped off the tree branch she’d been perched on, one that hung just a little way behind Birger’s heard. Because she could (and in Birger’s opinion, was a show off), the young dragon went into a spin as she landed on her brother’s head, right between his grand antlers. Elsa fell sprawled in his mane and peaked down to look him in an eye.

“Now how did you know it was me?” Elsa grumbled, her still-present frown upside in Birger’s vision.

The sight made him smirk; for both her position in his view, and his brotherly amusement of the entire scenario. No matter how hard she trained or tried, his adopted sister had never succeeded in ambushing him. But then, it’s hard to sneak up on someone you share a unique magical bond with.

“That’s quite simple, little one…you see, I’m your big brother. Therefore, I know everything!”

Birger laughed heartily, quite pleased with himself, as Elsa now pouted at him. She grumbled something about big brothers being awfully annoying as she slid down his snout and jumped off. Elsa landed in a graceful crouch on the soft snow below, not unlike the beast whose pelt she wore like a second skin. As Elsa stood and turned around, not bothering to brush the snow that clung to her fur off, Birger lowered his head down to her level.

“Now, do tell me Elsa, just where have you been today?”

It was Elsa’s turn to smirk now, and she crossed her arms and leaned them and her weight on her brother’s nose.

“See, and here I thought you knew everything, hmm?”

Tables properly turned, Birger pouted now, and Elsa had her go at laughing. But as she did, her amusement and Birger’s suffering were cut off as a figure lunged from the side and slammed into Elsa. The assailant’s tackle was well planned, and they took Elsa a fair way away into the brush. Birger’s eyes widened, and he blinked at the suddenness of the event. But as he looked after his sister and her ambusher, he sighed and shook his head as he recognized them.

Olfken had taken his opening, and yet another round between him and Elsa was now on.

The pair wrestled and tussled furiously, the intensity of their impromptu duel often leading one to roll into the other. This gave their duel quite the distance, as their battle traveled through the valley. The poor souls they bumped into or crossed paths with merely dealt with it, often responding with rolled eyes or scoffs. Unfortunately for them, this happened often, and it was never a calm affair.

Now, one would think that, after so many years of growing, Olfken would be far too big to safely battle Elsa. Normally that would be true, but as the years went by, it became clear that Olfken was not a normal frost dragon. Though not clearly evident in his pup years, it became increasingly evident over the years that Olfken was very much a runt. Where normally at his age, he would be a good-sized beast who Elsa wouldn’t even meet the elbow of, Olfken’s height capped off to where she could just touch his shoulder if she fully out-stretched her arm.

Some frost dragon elders viewed Olfken’s dwarfism as a disgraceful abomination and thought him better off exiled…or worse…such elders as Grakkus, and more.

But Elsa would not have it, and with Birger at her back, no one dared challenge their mercy. Some of those elders who shunned Olfken had even tried to plead with Byrohk to “see sense”, and to at the very least banish the “mongrel”. Much to his credit, and Elsa’s relief, however, even Byrohk wouldn’t have it. Olfken had been a dear playmate to both Birger and his lost daughter all those years ago. He’d been absent from the ill-fated pup escapade because he’d been feeling unwell, an ailment that would prove a side-effect of his unique state.

Being a fellow small dragon, Elsa took fiercely to defending Olfken as often has his pride would allow. Though he often tried to pull his own weight, his easily acquiring of sickness repeatedly drove Elsa to bringing extra food just for Olfken, much to the vexation of some elders. Still, the pair were left to their camaraderie, and more often ignored than not.

But frost dragons were not the only victims of their travelling tussles.

Allanor, the young byalfkelk Elsa saved once upon a time, now grown into his own brand of mighty beast, looked up in horror as the pair descended upon him.

“No! Oh no, no-no-no, not again!” He shrieked, and his cloven hoofs skittered frantically beneath before he finally leaped out of their way.

Much to his displeasure, the pair’s battle stopped travelling and remained near him. Allanor evaded their duel as best he could, the tight-knit trees at his back making that difficult. Forced to watch yet another of their spars, the byalfkelk couldn’t help the lecture at his lips.

“Come on, you two, knock it off! Elsa, Olfken’s three-times your size, something’s bound to go wrong!”

Allanor’s pleas went unheard as the duel continued, and it managed to get moving once again. This time, the byalfkelk hesitantly followed, more out of a desire to ensure his friends didn’t go too far—both in distance, and in injury. The dueling pair ended up in a fair-sized clearing, a thick wall of bushes on the other side that all but melded with the trees. Unfortunately for Olfken, Elsa had managed to pin him on the ground quite uncomfortably; she gripped his antlers tight and angled his head into the ground. The angle by which she had him, the added strength afforded Elsa by her magic, and the older dragon’s inability to worm his way out, left him at her mercy.

Elsa smirked at Olfken, his pleas to end the duel being muffled by the faceplant amused her. But before she could acquiesce, her ears twitched every so slightly, and her gaze ended up locked on the bushes on the other side. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but the young dragon found she couldn’t look away. She frowned, her pale brow clouding over her bright blue eyes like the calm before a storm. Something wasn’t right…she could feel it…

There was something there…

 “Ow, ow-ow-ow, oowww!! Elsa! Okay Elsa, okay–ah, ack, Elsa! Please, you win, let go! _Let go!_ ”

Elsa blinked repeatedly, torn from her stare by Olfken’s increasingly agitated cries. She immediately let go of his antlers, which allowed him to slowly reset his head after the strain of the pin. Elsa looked back to the bushes, frowned, and crouched low as she all but prowled closer to the other end. She just knew there was something there, every fiber of her being _screamed_ there was danger. She’d been able to accurately sense danger before, so she knew her instincts couldn’t be wrong now. But…it truly seemed as if nothing was wrong…

Behind her, as she scrutinized the bushes, Olfken had begun to whine after his defeat.

“By the Mountain, Elsa,” He muttered, and rubbed his neck where it met his head, the muscles there strained. “Just what manner of beast _are_ you?!”

Allanor gave Olfken a pitying look and shrugged. “I don’t know for sure myself, Olfken, but I like to imagine she’s some kind of cousin to the byalfkelk.”

Olfken immediately gaze the byalfkelk a wide-eyed, incredulous stare. “Are you being serious, Allan?!”

Elsa still watched the bushes, more tense than a tree against a breeze, and did not hear a word of this exchange. Her instincts still raged that something was wrong, but none of the dragon’s senses could pick up any absolute sign of a threat. Despite Olfken’s remark, Allanor continued with his reasoning.

“Come now, Olfken, is it so impossible? I mean, _she_ likes chewing pine needles, _I_ like chewing pine needles.”

Finally, Elsa glowered and gave a growling sigh. She had stared for a plenty long time, had watched closely and listened hard. Yet still, she could not pick up any solid presence beyond what her instincts demanded was there. Perhaps she was beginning to lose her mind…maybe that one hit Olfken got off on their tussle over here did more damage than she thought. Elsa began to turn away slowly, but kept her gaze on the bushes she’d been so fixated on for as long as she could. When she received the same lack of evidence of a threat beyond her instincts, the young dragon finally gave up and turned around completely, just as Olfken scoffed at Allanor.

“You have to be joking, you two look nothing alike!”

Not even a heartbeat’s worth of silence had a chance to take hold, before a sudden and loud shriek of pure hatred was heard. Elsa immediately swung back around, and her eyes widened in shock and fear as she beheld a living nightmare. The monster itself, the Nightmare that plagued their herd, had burst from the bushes and threw itself at her even now. As her friends screamed in equal parts shock and terror, the young dragon dropped to the ground as the Nightmare flew over her, her eyes never leaving its form.

Olfken and Allanor had started moving the moment the Nightmare’s shriek had cut through the air, and just in time; the monster landed in a heap of thrashing claw and muscle right where they had been.

Allanor, the farthest thing from a warrior in the entire herd, wasted no time in fleeing. There would be nothing he could do against the Nightmare, and having heard many dark tales about it from the frost dragons over the years, knew better than to dare linger. Olfken did much the same, for many of the same reasons. He remembered well how the elders behaved during and after the last incident, the one that took so many pups; including Birger’s own sister. No matter the size or age, the Nightmare was a threat to all frost dragons, and Olfken would not linger near it.

Unfortunately, their swift flight meant that, when the Nightmare rose into a leap-ready crouch, Elsa was its only target. This was to the monster’s pleasure, however, as its grey lips stretched into a wicked smile when it recognized her. The young dragon herself didn’t hesitate a moment longer, and used her position close to the ground to propel herself into the air, away from the Nightmare. She hit the side of a tree and clung to it with the claws of her gauntlet-paws, and paused for only a moment before she launched herself up and higher into the tree.

Below her, Elsa could hear the enraged howls of the Nightmare as its prey fled, and terror gripped her insides as she heard the telltale din of the monster tearing its way up the tree after her. Above her was a mighty branch, one that would give her steady ground and a good vantage on the beast. But the Nightmare was close behind, and it gained on her quickly. As adrenaline coursed through her veins like fire, Elsa summoned all of her strength and leaped up to reach the branch she sought. As she did so, the Nightmare lunged and was a hairsbreadth away from getting a hold on her leg.

But just as its horrid claws were about to grip Elsa’s leg, a powerful force gripped its own and tore it from the tree.

Elsa steadied herself on the branch she’d hurried for, and turned just in time to realize why the Nightmare no longer chased her. Down on the ground, she witnessed the monster lunge for her rescuer; none other than Byrohk himself. Hope and adoration arose in the young dragon’s chest as she realized what had happened, but fear quickly reclaimed its space in her chest as the Nightmare tackled the _tsar_. Despite the monster’s size being greatly dwarfed by the frost dragon’s mighty form—the Nightmare was only about twice Elsa’s own size, after all—some devilish strength it possessed allowed the Nightmare to take Byrohk to the ground.

Frost dragons crowded around nearby, growling and howling, but none ever dared to get too close. They feared the Nightmare too much, and moreover, they feared their _tsar’s_ reaction. Not only was he their leader, but he’d lost not only his daughter but many other pups of their heard to this demon. None knew what had happened to his mate, but many feared she’d found herself prey to the Nightmare as well. No, they would not interfere, this was Byrohk’Kahless’ fight.

But oh, would they cheer and roar for him to win.

Despite their bravado on behalf of their _tsar_ , and despite Byrohk’s own strength, the Nightmare had not plagued them this long for no reason. Generations upon generations of their herd had not fallen victim to this monster because they were foolish. As if egged on by some cruel deity, the Nightmare bit and clawed and kicked at the frost dragon. Its black fur rippled in the wind from the force of its strikes, and the corded muscles that flexed beneath. Byrohk, for all his grand might, struggled to limit the damage the Nightmare inflicted upon him, his rolls to get it off and his spins to keep its aim untrue all futile. Though he managed to get off a good claw or two, the Nightmare clearly had the advantage.

The Nightmare, as much as it enjoyed tearing into this grand specimen of dragon, had enough; it clung to his back and raked his shoulder blades, the _tsar’s_ blood bringing color to the monster’s monochromatic fur. Byrohk screamed in agony and in rage, and shook mightily to dislodge the Nightmare. When that failed, the _tsar_ pushed off of the ground with his forepaws and stood tall. His height was so great, he nearly equaled the height of the eldest of the nearby trees. He reached for his back with his forepaws, his legs so prehensile they were as arms as he dug his claws into the back of the Nightmare.

It was now the monster’s turn to howl in pain, but that howl was quickly cut off as Byrohk tore it from his back. The frost dragon stumbled as he did so, the great pain he felt had finally begun to sap the strength from his limbs. Just as he began to tip, and start to fall to the ground, Byrohk threw the Nightmare from his back and onto the ground nearby. The immediate threat removed from his person, Byrohk let himself fall like a dead and ailing tree to the ground. His grand form, coupled with the speed at which he fell, caused the ground to shudder for a great distance around.

Every frost dragon near cowered and watched wide-eyed as their _tsar_ literally fell; everyone, especially Elsa, felt great fear for the figurative father of their herd.

For all his effort, however, Byrohk’s toss hardly phased the Nightmare. The beast fell to the ground amidst some bushes, true, but rolled upon collision and seamlessly rose to its feet. It lowered into a crouch amidst the bushes and glared at Byrohk’s limp, prone form through the leaves. It snarled and hissed, its long, sharp, and many yellowed teeth bared. As arrogant and proud as a cat, the Nightmare prowled out from the bushes and approached Byrohk. As if he sensed the monster’s nearness, the frost dragon twitched and shifted, and struggled to stand. The Nightmare all but smiled, and rolled its mighty shoulders as it circled the _tsar_.

Byrohk just managed to raise his head and glare at the Nightmare, even as his form heaved with his strained breaths. The Nightmare now fully, truly smiled, and flexed the bloody talons on its black-furred hands. They both knew there was little Byrohk could do to save himself now, and the monster was _relishing_ in it. The frost dragons that surrounded them cowered in full now, enraged at the defeat of their _tsar_ and in despair at the great blow to their herd his death would be. Even Allanor, who in part owed his life to Byrohk, grit his teeth in anger and sorrow at the poor sight his _tsar_ was now.

No longer interested in its arrogant show, the Nightmare snarled in triumph as it broke into a run for Byrohk’s vulnerable form. But just as it tensed its legs and made to leap for the elder frost dragon, a defiant, angry howl cut through the air. All at once, Byrohk raised a foreleg to cover his face, the Nightmare leaped for him to finish its prey, and to their audience’s surprise…Elsa all but soared and collided mid-air with the Nightmare, her padded feet slammed into its side, a wooden stave with a blade of ice on the end in hand.

The force of her momentum and the strength of her kick sent the Nightmare away from Byrohk, and even into a tree. It struck the tree with its back, the monster outright yelping in pain as it fell into the snow, even more falling atop from the force. The Nightmare howled in indignation and rage, and it furiously spun around and leaped to its feet, snarling and growling at Elsa. Elsa held her weapon at the ready, her body poised to respond to whatever attack the Nightmare initiated, and glared eerily calmly at the beast. The young dragon herself stood between her injured father and the Nightmare, said father awestruck as his wide eyes took in the impossible sight before him.

All around them, frost dragons were in an excited uproar; howls, roars, shrieks and growls, all sounding in victory and encouragement for their comrade. They pawed at the ground, whipped their tails in the air, shook their heads and snapped their jaws. The thunderous din of their bestial cheers filled the entire valley, their ancestral home full of their vigor. But one dragon who witnessed the skirmish was not as entertained, nor as accepting of Elsa’s involvement. Birger watched from the sidelines in horror as not did his father, his last living blood relative, lay severely wounded from combat with the _Nightmare_ …

…but the pup he rescued and adopted as his sister now faced off against the monster that tried to kill her as a babe.

A concoction of love-driven fear and protective rage stewed in his great chest, and Birger shifted with the intent of entering the fray. Before he could, however, he felt a cool, calming balm spread over his spirit, and felt his muscles instinctively relax in response. His big blue eyes moved to focus on Elsa’s face, the expression of which had not changed. But Birger could _feel_ her gaze, even if it physically wasn’t on him, and remained instead on the Nightmare.

_Let me do this…_

The dirt and snow beneath Birger’s paws crunched and cracked as all four of them clenched at once. He cringed, tensely and visibly, his eyes now locked on his little sister’s face. Every fiber of his being _screamed_ at him to run forward, to protect Elsa, to _destroy_ the Nightmare. He wanted to do it, Birger wanted to so very badly…

…but he respected the dragon his precious Elsa had become too much to take this away from her. If he intervened, not only could she lose him to the Nightmare, but even if they both survived, she’d never forget the day her brother didn’t have faith in her. No, even if inaction caused him near physical pain, Birger would not interfere. He had to trust, here and now, that all their years of rearing and training gave Elsa everything she needed.

Everything she needed to avenge countless frost dragons before her.

The moment seemed as an eternity to Birger, but was truly only a moment. As soon as that moment was over, so was the Nightmare’s patience, and the beast lunged at Elsa with a wrathful snarl. Elsa charged at it, surprise flashed in its yellow eyes for a moment, but disappeared as quickly as it came. The Nightmare roared and jumped at the young dragon, but she was prepared. Just as it was about to jump, Elsa slid into a crouch and readied her spear. As the monster was about to come down on top of her, Elsa raised her spear and used her strength coupled with the beast’s momentum to send it flying away from where Byrohk lay.

The Nightmare wailed in indignant anger as it soared quite ungracefully through the air, and landed in the trees beyond the clearing. The dragons who’d been crowded on that side immediately scurried away; both out of fear of the Nightmare, and a desire to not accidentally get caught up in the battle. The ingrained fear of the beast they had didn’t help, but their flight ended up being a boon for Elsa. With her herd dispersed away from the Nightmare, it would be far easier for her to deal with it without worrying for her kin.

Elsa chased after the Nightmare, and had almost reached it by the time the monster landed and began to stand. She could’ve sworn she heard Byrohk say something behind her, but paid it no mind. This was not the time to be distracted, this was when she needed to be at her most focused. So, Elsa focused on the Nightmare’s black, oily form as she hefted her spear in her hands. Just as the beast had gotten on his hands and knees, Elsa slid to a stop beside it and raised her weapon. But just as she made to bring it down on the monster, her whole body jerked to a halt as something stopped her spear.

Her eyes widened as she beheld the Nightmare, one bloody claw holding the haft of the spear near the blade. It glared at her, lips pulled back and teeth bared as it snarled in pure ire. The look of sheer hatred froze her for a moment, and that was almost her downfall. With a growl, the Nightmare quickly rose to its feet and made to rake her left side with its free claw. Elsa dodged to her right, and struggled to keep a hold of her spear.

But the Nightmare would not allow this, and with a mere flex of its claw, snapped the spear’s haft in two. The freehand it’d used to try and claw at her now shot out and grabbed her by the neck. Elsa gasped and choked, unable to breathe for the force on her throat now. The Nightmare leaned in close to her, its snarl now a wicked smile as it held aloft the end it still gripped; the end with the blade. Elsa realized in that split second, the beast thought it had an advantage, wielding her weapon against her.

But with a flick of her wrist, the icy blade on the end melted instantly.

The Nightmare’s expression wavered as it felt water fall onto its arm, and its gaze flickered towards the now simple stick. Distracted in that moment, Elsa choked out a roar, raised an arm and raked the claws on her glove across the monster’s face. The Nightmare wailed and let go of Elsa’s neck, and the young dragon gasped for breath as she tried to back away. But before she could get far, the Nightmare’s scream shifted into a growl, one of its claws against the slashed half of its face. Its growl rose a couple of octaves as it lashed out at Elsa, and blindly swung out its other claw at her.

Elsa had felt pain before, many times, especially over the intense last few years.

But the _agony_ and the _fire_ in her face after the Nightmare’s claws slashed the sensitive flesh was like nothing she’d felt before. Even the cowl she wore to cover her face did little against the monster’s razor-like talons, the fur ripped to shreds on the left side now. What little was left stuck to the wound, the fur now stained by Elsa’s blood. She panted and spat away blood from her lip, the adrenaline now burned through her body like fire, a better, warmer fire than the pain in her face. The young dragon backpedaled as quickly as she could, only to grunt in shock as her back met with the bark of a tree.

Elsa opened her right eye, the left too covered in blood and torn fur to be of use right now.

The Nightmare stood a few paces away, and glared at her as it pulled its claw away from its face. In a twisted sense of irony, their wounds matched, but the monster didn’t seem amused by this at all. Neither was Elsa for that matter, but she was all together to enthralled in her drive to survive to consider any emotion beyond focused determination. The young dragon glared back at the Nightmare, and spat off to the side to dispose of blood that had dripped from her face onto her lips. Elsa then grasped at the remains of the cowl, and tore it from her head, and tossed it down. The Nightmare didn’t move, but its good eye widened just noticeably enough.

It recognized her…

Elsa knew this wasn’t the first time the monster had seen her. Indeed, she’d been told of how Birger had saved her from the Nightmare itself, and had just barely managed to get away with his life and hers. So, when the Nightmare recognized her, and snarled even more fiercely than before, Elsa understood.

It was personal now.

The Nightmare howled in pure hatred, and charged at the young dragon. At first Elsa didn’t move, and merely glared at the beast as it charged. Just in time, before it reached her, she jumped into the air as it struck the tree instead of her. The Nightmare grunted in pain and surprise, only to yelp as Elsa landed on its shoulders. Before the beast could react, Elsa immediately scurried up the tree, using the claws on her gloves to climb as swiftly as she could. Another hateful howl echoed through the forest, and she heard the telltale din that announced the Nightmare’s own ascent.

The encouraging roars and howls of frost dragons still sounded from all around them, even if the combatants no longer saw or acknowledged their audience. Elsa climbed the tree as fast as she could, and paused only to either wipe at her left eye with a furry sleeve or to kick off tree limbs onto the Nightmare below her. The limbs did not always meet their mark; either they missed entirely, or the beast batted them away with a defiant snarl. But just enough to satisfy, there would be a yelp of pain as one struck the Nightmare. The yelps would make Elsa smile, but the young dragon remained focused on her task.

Finally, she reached the top of the tree, and looked out throughout the valley.

_Where is it….where is it?! Frozen North! Where’s the damn–_

Elsa’s thoughts were cut off as she saw it, not too far away as well, blessedly enough. A lake, so small it could almost be considered a large pond, but it would suit her needs all the same. It was frozen over as well, as it normally is, and that was exactly how the young dragon needed it. An ever-growing growl below alerted Elsa to her depleted time, and she had to move fast.

Without wasting another second, Elsa hugged the tree trunk just tight enough and began her descent. She made sure she was on the opposite side of the Nightmare, the arrogant beast never having moved any direction other than up. Before the monster could realize her actions, Elsa began an expertly done slide down the tree. She kept her claws in the bark just enough to give her grip, but to not stick herself in one place. Another howl sounded from the Nightmare, this one more annoyed and indignant than anything, as it furiously chased her back down the tree.

Once she was low enough to do so safely, Elsa kicked off the tree, landed on the snowy ground with a roll and dashed for the lake. A thud, muffled by powder but still loud, behind her told the young dragon the Nightmare was level with her once more. For the first time since the Nightmare first rushed out from the bushes, Elsa felt fear claw its way into her heart. This moment was even more of a nightmare now; to be running with the Nightmare of all things on her tail was infinitely more terrifying than if a whole rumble of vylrashkins were after her.

The flight through the trees as she made for the lake was as an eternity to Elsa. With the nightmare hot on her trail, its snarls and growls a bit too close for her liking, the young dragon couldn’t let up for even a moment. Even a moment’s hesitation could be her undoing, as the still stinging pain in the left side of her face reminded her. But Elsa had grown up in this area, and had spent many winters exploring its reaches and mastering its woods. The Nightmare may have many more winters on her—many, _many_ more from the tales she’s heard—but it never bothered to learn the land as Elsa had.

This and her training were the few advantages she had as she finally broke though the trees. This span of the lake’s shore had a few meters between the water and the trees, and Elsa dashed over those meters with a vengeance. Behind her, the piercing howl of the Nightmare sounded as it too left the tree-line behind, and bore down on her. The young dragon knew what she had to do, the monster had too many advantages on her and she had even the playing field. Her plan was crazy, and deep down she knew there was a chance she wouldn’t make it…

But Elsa kept those doubtful thoughts at bay, as the ground beneath her padded feet transitioned from sturdy and snowy ground to frosty and jagged ice. Smartly, she’d fashioned the bottoms of her foot-covers with a spiky, hard material that afforded her plenty of traction on the normally slippery ice. Frustrated and semi-panicked grunts behind her made the young dragon smile, and she struggled to stay focused and not imagine the Nightmare slipping on the ice. The moments were evermore crucial, and each one that came and went required more and more focus. She couldn’t let up, not now, not when it all came to a head.

Once Elsa felt she was far enough out on the ice, she fell to her knees and slid on them in one fluid motion. As she came to a stop, she coated her fists in thick, strong ice and with fearsome grunts, pummeled the ice. Cracks quickly burst into existence and spread with the force of her blows, but this was ice borne of the Far North. It would take all of the young dragon’s strength to break through. Finally, after many blows that grew frantic as the Nightmare sounded closer, the cracking began to spread on its own.

Elsa dissipated the ice on her fists and spun around on her knees to face the Nightmare. It hadn’t quite reached her yet, but it was only a matter of time before it was upon her. Elsa’s breaths came in hard, shallow pants as she watched its approach, and waited. As she did, movement behind the Nightmare caught her attention, and she let herself look. Back on the lake’s shore, from whence the dueling pair had come, the frost dragon herd had gathered. Foremost among them was Birger, her dear brother, who she could see the worry and terror of from here.

Despite the fair distance, Elsa was able to meet his eyes. She could feel his fear, his terror, and knew how badly he dreaded her dying now, to the Nightmare. She knew of his blood sister, of Shaila, who’d died as a wee pup to the Nightmare’s fangs. She knew how he’d discovered her somewhere in the wild but a few weeks later, and how he’d refused to let her die to the beast as well. Indeed, the great long list that was the Nightmare’s crimes were known in full to the young adopted dragon.

Without breaking eye contact with her brother, even as the Nightmare’s eager growls got ever closer, Elsa formed a thick spear of ice in her hands. She knew Birger could feel her plan, she could see it in how his eyes widened. His fear spiked in his chest, but she could still feel it in hers. He shook his head, and she could feel his plea as if it was her own thought: _please don’t_.

Elsa looked back to the Nightmare, whose horrific smile should’ve frozen her with fear, had no effect. She simply took a deep breath, and raised the spear high over her head. With a fierce roar that shocked all of the dragons on the shore with strength, the young dragon thrust the spear into the heart of the ice’s cracks with all of her might. From subtle clicks and cracks to resounding groans and shudders, the ice beneath her began to buckle and shake. Elsa held her spear fast in the ice, and looked up back to Birger. In a single moment, their eyes met, the Nightmare lunged at Elsa, and Elsa herself smiled gently to her brother.

In another, the ice beneath Elsa shattered and fell into the water with the force of the Nightmare’s lunge, and the pair disappeared into the blue-black abyss below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> ...lol, just kidding. X3 Ta-da! I'll admit, I got a little Brother Bear at the end there, but don't worry, her method was the extent of the BB-ness. We go back to copying Tarzan here. =P I just always loved that scene in Brother Bear, and how viscerally emotional and striking it is. So, I guess, consider this homage to it? Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! Please do leave comments, I wanna know if I did well after the long block hiatus. =^w^=


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